The American Bison
I recently took the final step in a process that commenced more than 12 years ago: I became a US citizen. I didn't need to take this last step - as a permanent resident I could have continued to work and live here indefinitely. No, this was a definite choice.
The ceremony itself is a very tasteful event at a federal courthouse, and I can honestly say that I was proud to become a US citizen. That's now my flag, and my country, in a way that isn't quite the case when you're just a permanent resident. There were about fifty of us going through the process, and most were from Eastern Europe and India. In fact, with the exception of one person from Japan, there was no-one else who originated from what I'd call a "top tier" developed democracy.
While we waited in line to hand in our green cards and sign the citizenship form an American accompanying another applicant asked us where we were from. "United Kingdom" I replied. "Why are you becoming citizens?" he asked, clearly surprised. I gave a short, polite reply, resisting the temptation to spoil the ambience by asking why the fuck he should be so amazed that someone would actually want to become a US citizen for some other reason than to run away from the crappy poverty of their home country.
Actually it was a relief that the twat in question didn't ask us where in the UK we were from. I get that all the time from Americans. When I tell them (actually I give them a list of about ten places I lived) they proceed to look at me blankly before telling me that they had an aunt who once went on vacation to Norwich (which they insist on pronouncing Nor-Witch) or Leicester (which they don't so much pronounce as emit in a spasm of drool). They don't recognize a single place I mention, and if I included a few Serbian place names for the fun of it I doubt they'd notice. So why ask?
Maybe you think it's funny that I take the piss out of Americans having just become one, but that's the thing about citizenship: you don't have to like all the other people who live in the country. You don't even have to like the president (thieving socialist tosser). What you do have to do, as far as I'm concerned, is put that country first. Brits above a certain age (which won't include a bunch of Generation Y Facebook-junkie losers) should remember Norman Tebbit's Cricket Test. For all the immigrants from the Indian subcontinent who call themselves "English" the real test is who you cheer for when England are playing India, Pakistan or Sri Lanka at cricket. If you don't cheer for England you're not English, end of story. You're just using a flag of convenience to enable you to live in a country, in a parasitic way, rather than have to make it back in your "home" country, where life ain't so easy.
So while I will continue to support England over Australia in cricket, in the event of an England vs USA soccer match I'll cheer the US team, because to do otherwise would be the height of hypocrisy. (Of course I'll still want England to beat the French. And the Germans. Even if in reality they're lucky to beat Croatia on a good day.)
But there are some things that won't change. The definition of "fanny" is set in stone for me, and I can't move over to the US version. I'm not getting my teeth straightened, or giving a solitary fuck about baseball statistics. You can stick Disney World up your arse, and I cannot take evolution-denying uber-religious nutjobs seriously under any circumstances, especially when they start speaking in tongues. I won't ever consider American chocolate fit for anything other than cooking low-grade brownies, and I cannot consider a country fully civilized where they consider "salted" to be about the only acceptable potato chip flavor.
I do, however, like living in one of the few developed countries where they still have the balls to execute some of the worst murdering scum (although not nearly enough) and where guns can be owned by normal people, not just criminals (look how well that gun-ban experiment worked in England. Twats.) And as a fully-fledged citizen I can now do my bit to help ensure that the liberal left and their whiny socialist agenda doesn't take away all that made this country worth joining. It ain't perfect, but it's home.
Copyright © 2009 Edward Bison
The ceremony itself is a very tasteful event at a federal courthouse, and I can honestly say that I was proud to become a US citizen. That's now my flag, and my country, in a way that isn't quite the case when you're just a permanent resident. There were about fifty of us going through the process, and most were from Eastern Europe and India. In fact, with the exception of one person from Japan, there was no-one else who originated from what I'd call a "top tier" developed democracy.
While we waited in line to hand in our green cards and sign the citizenship form an American accompanying another applicant asked us where we were from. "United Kingdom" I replied. "Why are you becoming citizens?" he asked, clearly surprised. I gave a short, polite reply, resisting the temptation to spoil the ambience by asking why the fuck he should be so amazed that someone would actually want to become a US citizen for some other reason than to run away from the crappy poverty of their home country.
Actually it was a relief that the twat in question didn't ask us where in the UK we were from. I get that all the time from Americans. When I tell them (actually I give them a list of about ten places I lived) they proceed to look at me blankly before telling me that they had an aunt who once went on vacation to Norwich (which they insist on pronouncing Nor-Witch) or Leicester (which they don't so much pronounce as emit in a spasm of drool). They don't recognize a single place I mention, and if I included a few Serbian place names for the fun of it I doubt they'd notice. So why ask?
Maybe you think it's funny that I take the piss out of Americans having just become one, but that's the thing about citizenship: you don't have to like all the other people who live in the country. You don't even have to like the president (thieving socialist tosser). What you do have to do, as far as I'm concerned, is put that country first. Brits above a certain age (which won't include a bunch of Generation Y Facebook-junkie losers) should remember Norman Tebbit's Cricket Test. For all the immigrants from the Indian subcontinent who call themselves "English" the real test is who you cheer for when England are playing India, Pakistan or Sri Lanka at cricket. If you don't cheer for England you're not English, end of story. You're just using a flag of convenience to enable you to live in a country, in a parasitic way, rather than have to make it back in your "home" country, where life ain't so easy.
So while I will continue to support England over Australia in cricket, in the event of an England vs USA soccer match I'll cheer the US team, because to do otherwise would be the height of hypocrisy. (Of course I'll still want England to beat the French. And the Germans. Even if in reality they're lucky to beat Croatia on a good day.)
But there are some things that won't change. The definition of "fanny" is set in stone for me, and I can't move over to the US version. I'm not getting my teeth straightened, or giving a solitary fuck about baseball statistics. You can stick Disney World up your arse, and I cannot take evolution-denying uber-religious nutjobs seriously under any circumstances, especially when they start speaking in tongues. I won't ever consider American chocolate fit for anything other than cooking low-grade brownies, and I cannot consider a country fully civilized where they consider "salted" to be about the only acceptable potato chip flavor.
I do, however, like living in one of the few developed countries where they still have the balls to execute some of the worst murdering scum (although not nearly enough) and where guns can be owned by normal people, not just criminals (look how well that gun-ban experiment worked in England. Twats.) And as a fully-fledged citizen I can now do my bit to help ensure that the liberal left and their whiny socialist agenda doesn't take away all that made this country worth joining. It ain't perfect, but it's home.
Copyright © 2009 Edward Bison
posted by Mr Bison at
6:28 PM
2 Comments:
how does the london blitz, dresden, palestine and the opression of indonesia compare with 911? which team are you really supporting?
after your inauguration how does 911 compare to dresden, the blitz and the opression of indonesians and palestinians?
Post a Comment
<< Home