Starmer’s Resignation

I watched unloved Starmer’s self pitying tearful resignation speech outside Number Ten & was struck by one sentence in which he referred to Britain as ‘the Country I love’.
I was dumbstruck.
The reason he has been drummed out of office is because it is self evident he hates Britain & everyone in it.
After two years in office I make a few observations on his extraordinary pre clinical sociopathic persona & delusional assessment of his own record.

I will stick mainly to analysing just his bizarre claim to love Britain.

I love my country warts & all although not any of its politicians, journalists or civil servants. My family, friends & channel subscribers feel the same as I do.

I accept many might feel our nation is akin to the famous Curate’s Egg, good in parts. Not everyone likes everything. But I am at a loss to understand what exactly Starmer loves.

Does he love as I do any of the following ?
In no order of priority.

I am at the time of writing I am tramping the Welsh coastal path in its entirety for the second time, so I have pondered in some depth.

Does he feel deeply as even non lawyers do a commitment to the principles of English Law, the concept of Common Law, the Athenian principles of democracy, a Constitutional Christian monarchy? A Peelite police force, an independent military? Free speech, Magna Carta?

The family unit as the primary stable base for society?

These very British values can be held even by those like Starmer whose emotions are a closed book, indeed if they exist at all.

I float the term ‘emotion’, I feel entitled as Starmer brought emotion in to his speech.
Love actually, the strongest emotion of all?
If you love Britain, or any country within the United Kingdom family it helps bring more of us within the scope of my appraisal, ponder then with me if you will.

When you walk the Malvern hills does it evoke the music of Elgar in your mind?
Do the distant snow capped Cumbrian hills excite ? Or on a sunny spring day do your thoughts turn to Wordsworth?
Do Shakespeare’s speeches of Henry V stir your blood?

If you are in your local church at Evensong with the sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, does the hymn ‘The Day Though Gavest Lord is Ended’ give you a feeling of inner sanctuary?
Or the local church Carol service at Christmas & usual unintended hilarity of a nativity play by village children.
Listening to the Coldstream Guard‘s band in a St. James’s Park deck chair?

Does the Welsh national anthem sung before a rugger international move you even if you have no Welsh blood?
Similarly does the skirl of Scottish pipes playing Highland Laddie boil your blood even if you have no military background?

If the Battle of Britain Flight soars over your garden does the roar of the Rolls Royce Merlin engine & sight of a Spitfire or Hurricane raise the hairs on the back of your neck?
Do the precincts & towers of the great cathedrals in so many of our cities bring your ancestors closer ?

On a more prosaic level, when abroad after a few weeks do you pine for a decent cup of tea, a pint of real ale, fish & chips, roast beef & Yorkshire pud, toad-in-the-hole, egg & bacon (no other country understands bacon), kippers or fruit cake?

Do you relish moors, dales, mountains, fenland & the lazy distant sparkling rivers far off in the Marches?

The time honoured call of the bells to matins of a Sunday morning? Or perhaps the sound of bell practice on a Wednesday evening heard from an adjacent Somerset pub garden?
A stroll along The Backs on Cambridge bumps week? The straw boater & blazer, the eclectic mix of overseas undergraduates as they soak up British tradition by the barrow load to be savoured post varsity years way  into the future ?

Trooping the Colour? The Boat Race, Wimbledon strawberries & cream. Shrove Tuesday pancakes.
The Grand National, The Derby or even a local post to point?
Foxhounds, the toot of a hunting horn on a crisp October morning’s cubbing.
The scent of fresh mown grass in spring with the seasonal anticipation of a newly marked tennis court or cricket pitch.

Access to a host of different vernaculars, attitudes & humour all within a 48 hour drive on our island home.

Seaside towns with corny entertainment but still a timeless delight to children on the beach & in the arcade? Dodg’em cars on the pier, candyfloss & toffee apples.
Old folk on the bench with their sandwiches & thermos &staring out to sea reflecting when a seascape unmarred by wind turbines

The camaraderie or fellow dog walkers in the park or on the beach, notwithstanding the terrier’s mischievous delight in sabotaging it.
The eccentric aficionados of steam trains, classic cars, brass rubbing, traction engines, sheep dog trials, Morris dancing. dominoes in a London pub turned in to a spectator sport by Windrush arrivals of yesteryear, skittles in an Oxford Inn, shove-halfpenny in a University town hostelry taken absurdly seriously by participants.

Country pastimes & rural fellowship, the big city passionate football supporter loyal to a fault regardless of his club’s success ot lack thereof.

The sound of willow on leather accompanied by a ripple of applause with anticipation of afternoon tea at a County ground which no other nation can replicate. The click of the woods on the bowling green as you pass by.

Can you dismiss English literature wokery & appreciate the works of Rudyard Kipling & Henry Newbold? Understand where John Betjeman was trying to take us with his poetry of the 1960s condemning architectural brutalism.

The concept of national self deprecatory humour, of W.S. Gilbert through Bruce Bairnsfather to Dad’s Army.
Use it personally in California & an American lady will give you the name of her shrink for a self esteem boost. It happened to me!

Starmer is the victim of a difficult childhood so often the cause of a dysfunctional personality.
His cohort is the result of state education, self loathing, excused games & years of employment in the emotional cul-de-sac of the public sector cocoon.
They do not love any aspect of their own country, indeed they seek like Starmer to denigrate it & destroy it at every opportunity.
They love any country but their own, they resist not ‘the temptations to belong to other nations’.
Frighteningly these unhappy souls control the education system, civil service & judiciary.

Disappointingly the mortar that held the national bricks together for over fifteen hundred years was Christianity.
Abandoned now it seems by the ruling classes from the intellectually lazy & dysfunctional Monarch down.

You were interviewed some time ago Prime Minister & asked if you had a favoured poem, book or piece of music. You had none.
This is inconceivable in a normal person.

But you can take some small measure of comfort it seems, your successor is cut from the same cloth.
His goal is our demise.

But perhaps the days of you & your ilk are numbered ?
Time will tell.

Godfrey Bloom’s lectures, articles & CV can be found on his website
 

© Godfrey Bloom 2026 – Godfrey Bloom Online
 

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