Britain’s gone bat shit crazy. Everywhere you look, there’s a flag flapping halfway down a lamppost like someone with T-Rex arms tried to hang it after three pints of Stella and a fight with their lass. Roundabouts painted like a toddler’s been caught red handed with the ketchup. And there is always someone in a Union Jack cape shouting about “taking our country back,” like it’s a bike that got nicked outside Iceland in Whale Hill.
Let’s set something straight before a caped crusader starts spitting his wobbly teeth out in a fit of patriotic rage:
Flying a flag doesn’t automatically make you a racist. Loads of people chuck one up for the Euros, scoff a sausage roll or two, and call it a day. That’s fine. That’s back garden patriotism. But when the same flag gets waved while yelling about “boat people,” it stops being pride and starts looking like someone ordered some cheap Border Force from Temu.
Meanwhile, Behind the flags…
As everyone’s screaming about who belongs on this island and who doesn't, guess who’s having the time of their tax-dodging lives? That’s right: the billionaires.
They’re in the background, dancing around their mansions and delighting as another million drops silently into their pot of gold.
Because here’s the big con:
If you’re blaming immigrants for a housing crisis, a broken NHS, and the price of Freddos — you’re not asking why Britain’s ultra-rich pay less tax than when your nana wins down the bingo on a Saturday night (if you know, you know)
You’re not questioning the billions quietly flushed into offshore tax havens, or the shady government contracts handed out like jelly and Ice-cream at an 80’s kids party.
“But The Country is Broken!”
Yeah. So are your values mate. Every time you chant about dinghies, a hedge fund manager buys another flat in London to leave empty. Every flag waved is one less awkward question asked in Parliament about school funding, energy bills, or why your GP’s appointment is in April 2026.
They Want You Angry. Just Not At Them.
The headlines scream “invasion,” while billionaires are laughing so hard they spill their Bollinger. Because while you’re screaming about imaginary droves of immigrants swimming into the shores of Dover and spray painting “go back home” on the side of a Travelodge, they’re raking in tax breaks, gobbling up housing like it’s a game of Monopoly on speed, and shipping their fortunes to places with palm trees and no extradition treaties.
They don’t care if the Union Jack gets weaponised by bored blokes with red face paint and a Facebook group full of grammatical crimes.
They love it. Every angry tweet. Every badly spelled placard. Every “we’re full” shouted at a scared child stepping off a raft.
Because it means you’re not looking at them.
Turns out...It’s a Mugs game.
Eventually, maybe, the penny will drop through the custard.
One of the flag-wavers might stop, squint through the smoke from the hotels they tried to burn down, and whisper:
“Hang on... we’ve been waving this flag for months, yelling at dinghies, traumatising people already fleeing war zones - and somehow, I’m still broke, the NHS is still buggered, and Jeff Bezos just bought a yacht the size of the Transporter Bridge. Sharon are we... the mugs?”
Yes, Darren.
You fucking well are.
Ask yourself this question...
"If all the immigrants leave and no more arrive, how will my life improve?" Will it really be any better?
Because while you were busy spray-painting nationalism onto traffic bollards and shouting at people in lifeboats, the real looters were hiking up your shopping bill, selling off the school playing fields, and quietly defunding your public services behind you.
But don’t worry. You got a flag out of it.
Stick it in the window. Maybe it’ll keep the roof from caving in or the bailiff from cutting your leccy off when you can’t afford it anymore.
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