Dark Age Britain (truth)

Dear Diary,

As usual, I have been pre-occupied with thoughts about how I should be a good father.

She has, just now, decided to resume contact. I have been on tenterhooks the entire time, wondering if she will or will not wish to get to know me (for it would devastate me, if, after we have finally been reunited, she wishes to cut off all communication). I have been half way between tears and keeping it together (more of the former). It's a tricky situation. What do you say to an estranged daughter of 20 years? How do you act around her? Are you responsible? Or just let loose, being good fun? (I suspect it is somewhere between the two, erring to the former, not the latter).

Notwithstanding the father-daughter relationship (which weighs heavily upon my mind and soul), this evening at work was a bloody nightmare. These animals, these savages, these scarcely human brutes ridiculed me. I am a student of languages, and understand that most communication is non-verbal. The older thug was in charge today. (Mysteriously the younger thug is not well, in accordance with Divine Providence: this year, in the Chinese astrological calendar means that the year of the horse (my year) will have success, but those born in the year of the monkey (the younger thug, who's usually in charge) will have a bad year). Anyway, this thug and his compadre from the wastelands of Eastern Europe laud it over me, by promoting some kid above me, even above the younger sister who's shagging the younger thug. They laugh about it, about me, about university, about England (I am the only one who wears a face-mask in that place, and it is always the cross of Saint George). It is an affront to England herself. Yet this is nothing new. Now, here, today, is the Dark Ages, much like it was the Dark Ages in Gildas' day. Regard, that Britain was always ruled by tyrants (Gildas, De Excidio Britanniae 2.27). This is nothing new. Britain has, and has always had, and always will have, unreasonable foreign tyrants as their overlords. Try it. Go ahead. Earn a master's degree in Classical Latin, and see where you end up. I dare you. I double dare you. You'll end up in McDonald's or on the dole, because this is Dark Age Britain, and not Renaissance Italy, evidently. (And will be remembered as such, for all eternity).

They're laughing at us, these uneducated morons. Yet they hold all the keys. This is not a meritocracy so much as a nation of slaves, beggars and thieves, and no amount of sugar coated bullshit from Westminster will ever change the truth of what is actually happening, on the ground, not in some ivory tower.

Max.