Carry on

Or, “Why I love the British, part 2.” Maybe you’ve seen various mugs, posters and other kitsch with the “Keep calm, Carry on” message. Or some funny variation about eating cupcakes. I didn’t know it had originated in wartime England, or that it was to be saved for the direst of circumstances (and then never used). The other propaganda posters were equally charming.

It’s the opposite of us Americans, isn’t it? Everything is a tragedy here, from traffic accidents to running out of saline solution. But being bombed by the Germans? That’s not even drastic enough to warrant the “Keep calm” poster. Maybe we’re a little histrionic as a nation, prone to throwing spastic fits over everyday occurrences. We’ve been flapping and fainting for months about Iran and its potential possession of the parts necessary to eventually pursue a nuclear weapon. We’ve been using overblown rhetoric about everything from our financial situation to making contraceptives available through the Affordable Care Act. I guess it’s to be expected, though. America was, after all, populated mostly by England’s debtors, religious fanatics and assorted criminals. Our current crises make so much more sense now, don’t they?

I used to have this idea that maybe we could go begging on our knees for England to take us back, at least as a member of the Commonwealth. Maybe if I write a sweet enough letter. Shall I try?

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