We lived there, and had interesting times, for close to two years. I felt as if the bombs had gone off a lot closer to New Zealand than they really had. This was a place I once called “home”.
The best response I’ve read so far is here.
What the fuck do you think you’re doing? This is London. We’ve dealt with your sort before. You don’t try and pull this on us.
Yeah, that’s the spirit. Forget the politicians, it’s time for the city, that ravening, hungry, dirty, but livable and lovable blot on the green and pleasant land to take care of its own. Tony Blair and his self-conscious aping of Churchillian prose and inflection can take a jump.
Still, what happens next?