But admittedly, this club of assorted knuckledraggers, boneheads and goosestepping eagle-polishers is so “edgy,” so far off the mainstream political establishment, that it hardly picks up any votes.
Yes, the NF’s voting tally (not sure about tallywhackers, though) are consistently dwarfed even by the sum of protest votes garnered by fellow neo-fascists, the British National Party. Similarly, their fellow radical socialists, the Greens, tend to do “better” than the National Front in elections.
However, as if their lack of polling success wasn’t bad enough, skinheads in the UK are reeling at the unexpected revelation that Hitler was not, like everybody thought, a good, patriotic Anglo-Saxon; he was actually a “bloody Kraut from Germany!” Really, it’s true!
I spoke with one distraught National Front Member, who is already suicidal, and just cannot keep from thinking about how we was maliciously deceived by this foreign b___…
What a manipulative Euro-scumbag! I only loved him cos I thought he were English, like. I once knew a patriotic ska artist back in Burnley in the 80s who looked just like him, mustache and all.
I mean, you watch the films, and the Nazis, them is all speaking in English proper, not jibber-jabbering in some Euro-dialect, you know, bloody Romanian or Polish and that.
Yeah, who’d’ve thought? First they takes our Tikka Masala and says it’s Indian, then our English Breakfast, even us Welsh Rarebits (well OKs, yeah, them taffy boys is all sheep-shaggers, but it’s the principle that counts!)
Urgh… next thing yer know, they’ll be tellin’ us Jesus were a Jew, mate!
‘E were? It’s enough to make yer go BDSM, like! Well, don’t tell us vicar at the church down the road, he’s a well good Frontsman and will be really, really upset. If he finds this out, his career as a Reich-reviving God-botherer will be ruined forever.
Somewhat confused at the man’s irrational intransigence and (of course) his tendency to grab his crotch with a mournful look, as though he were somehow indulging in pathetic reminiscences about some genial and ecstatic 80s homosocial skinhead ska party, I ask the fatal question…
Yes, I ask him whether he could not find it in his heart to love just one person from abroad:
He spits, dangling his solid, meaty fists in front of my cringing face:
Flamin’ ‘eck, lad! Yer either a great British patriot; Oswald Mosley, William Joyce, Benito Mussolini, Francisco Franco; or yer nowt!
Well, I’m a bit confused by his assumption that Il Duce and co. were all British; but like the architects of UK and US foreign policy, I suppose a somewhat inadequate grasp of geography is probably the least of my interlocutor’s worries…