I have just returned from Bestival, so this blog is a Bestival special. In fact, there are probably a few to follow that will have arisen out of this trip.
The theme of the day is patriotism. I’m not especially proud of being British or English. My boss would say that we used to be a great nation and that it all went wrong (Darwin style) at the battle of the Somme. However, I’m not especially proud of some of our pre WW2 history – the slave trade for example. There are some things I love about the collective English personality – the ability to apologise profusely for being bumped into, forming orderly queues and our stock conversation topic of the weather to name but a few. However, you would never catch me cheering ‘Engerland, Engerland, Engerland’ whilst sporting a face painted with the George’s Cross and waiving a big bat. I think the flag has become synonymous with anti-immigration and hooliganism.
‘How does this ranting relate to Bestival?’ I hear you ask (if you haven’t dropped off by this point). Well, two-fold really. Firstly, Lily Allen, who I clearly have much more in common with than first thought, sang a song about the BNP (or George Bush, she couldn’t make up her mind) called ‘Fuck You Very Much’. Eloquent. Secondly, it is my theory that this lack of national pride on the part of the camping, ban the bombs Guardian readers has been countered by an all the more palatable (if a little embarrassing, depending on where you’re from) phenomenon – Home Town Patriotism.
This was demonstrated a number times at the Bestival, but there is a particular example involving the boyfriend (yes, next stage) that springs to mind. Our happy band of fancy dress space people were unable to get into the main tent to see La Roux, so we headed for a secondary tent where a slightly questionable DJ was playing. After about five minutes of his set, Boyfriend turned to us and asked ‘what is this shit?’. Space Claire had a look through the programme and answered ‘Kid Carpet’. Then, in one of the most surreal transformations of opinion I have ever witnessed Boyfriend shouts ‘OH MY GOD, KID CARPET, BRIIIIISTOOOOOOOOOL!!!’.We were a little shocked at first, but then found we had a sudden urge to join in, shouting ‘BRISTOL!’ at anyone we met who came from there. So the moral of the Bestival is – embrace your town and support people from there, even if they’re shit. Unless that is if you’re from Bloody Bush (Northumberland), in which case it might be best to keep it shut.
Tags: Bestival, Patriotism
