Striking camp

Grave news of a further tilt of the axis of evil towards the end of the world not as we know it - but as it should be.

The label on the ‘camp’ coffee bottle is changing. Ever since I can remember when I’ve walked past it in the supermarket I’ve been cheered by the little picture of the highland fusilier being served his camp beverage by his trusty Indian manservant.

The new label apparently has them taking coffee together.

I don’t f**king think so! First off, the coffee has to be laced with whisky, it’s the only way to make the bloody stuff drinkable. This means that any Mohammeden cannot drink it, as it’s against their religion to drink and against the scot’s religion to waste good scotch on a colonial.
The revised label is, of course, another sop to erasing this nation’s glorious colonial past. There’s an awful lot of rot talked about Imperial guilt. I don’t have any, for three reasons. One - look what happened to the countries we left to their own devices - total bloody chaos, they were all far better off united and hating us. Two - we gave them all sorts of neat stuff like railways. Three - these days whenever somebody says ‘empire’ I automatically think of the Death Star, so don’t tell me the consequences of empire are far-reaching.

If we’re going to have Imperial guilt though, at least we should have the things around us to feel guilty about! What’s the point of feeling guilty about something that has nothing to do with you and is not your fault. If I wanted that, I’d convert to Catholicism.