Phew, What a Scorcher!

Ben Wildsmith

In response to recent criticism in the Senedd from Reform UK, Nation.Cymru has broadened our editorial line to reflect the views of ordinary folk you find on their Facebook pages. We hope you enjoy our new direction.

All got your little fans have you, and your factor 50, and your mister, and your bottles of vegan water, and your ethical sun hats? You make me sick. Do you think we had Red Ed Miliband holding our hands back in 1976?

I can tell you we most assuredly did not! I remember my old dad coming in from an 18-hour shift at the blast furnace and lighting his fag off a chip pan fire before changing out of his long johns and taking us all on a five mile run to the incinerator where we shovelled in the week’s empty Angel Delight packets in return for a shiny new ten pence piece which I later used as a deposit on my first flat. It’s called summer!

Perhaps if today’s kids spent more time herded into windowless rooms to learn Rudyard Kipling poems by rote, they’d have less time to be ADHD and more capacity to understand the contribution the British Empire made to the world.

When my great grandfather was bayoneting the Sudanese in 1885, he didn’t insist on enhanced working breaks because it was a bit warmer than he was used to. No, he had a cider lolly and got on with civilising a continent. The Sudanese loved him for it!

As soon as they saw his red jacket they knew they’d be in for some top-class banter and not to ruin the vibe by making everything political. It’s called a sense of humour!

Deport, Deport, Deport! Sorry, was just adding a comment to John Cleese’s latest X post.

Now, there’s a man who understands that comedy is rooted in basic common sense. Did you know that 100% of Muslim criminals are Muslim?

Let. That. Sink. In.

I suppose Ron Jones will be sending his Twitter police round for me now. What is it with these made-up Welsh names? When I was in the territorials there was only one so-called ‘Welsh’ name – ‘Taffy’.

I was Taffy, my wife was Taffy, my children were Taffies and the dog was Jock because he was a West Highland Terrier. He was a thieving barsteward too, must have been related to Wee Jimmy Krankie’s husband! No offence.

The wokies will tell you that between 2000 and 3500 people died as a direct result of the 1976 heatwave. Well, I didn’t die, did I? Case closed.

If I had, though, I wouldn’t have minded. We were made of sterner stuff in those days, being immolated by a merciless sun was an accepted part of life, you cracked out a Watneys Party Seven for the wake and drove home as best as you could.

And before you start, we had ‘climate change’ back then too, only we called it ‘the weather’! Instead of crippling the economy with barmy ‘Net Zero’ schemes we tied handkerchiefs on our heads and rode our Raleigh Choppers to the stream by the Baglan Bay chemical plant to look at the luminous fish. Happy days!

So, kiddiwinks, be sure to insist on your education during the warmer months. Don’t let your teachers’ luxury beliefs deprive you of days in the classroom dehydrating as you absorb the stirring narrative of your ruling class.

It never did me any harm, did it?