Britain, A Nation in Decline but Always Entertained
The United Kingdom today feels less like a ship of state and more like the Titanic after the iceberg: still afloat, still glamorous, but slowly tilting. And what is the Daily Mail if not the house band, playing loud and lively so that no one has to notice the icy water creeping in?
Each headline is another tune to keep the passengers occupied:
- Tube drivers demanding two-for-one Legoland tickets — a jaunty comic number.
- Meghan and Harry — the recurring romantic ballad.
- Migrants in small boats — the minor key of menace.
- And always, The War — the patriotic anthem, replayed nightly as if it were still 1940.
This is Britain’s late-stage foma: decline disguised as entertainment. The Commons provides the farce on stage, the Mail writes the programme notes, and the public clap, boo, and hiss like a pantomime audience.
It would be easy to sneer, but sympathy feels more fitting. The band is only doing what it knows: keeping spirits up as the hull takes on water. And perhaps there is a strange kind of nobility in that — giving people something to laugh at on the way down.
The tragedy is that laughter doesn’t fix the leaks. But perhaps it makes the cold a little easier to bear.
What else is one to do? The posters still hang on the wall: Keep Calm and Carry On. The ship may sink, but the music will never stop.