Citizenship pipedreams: again
I got a cold at the Reading festival. This has set me back a few days and I haven’t been able to blog much, even when Tony Blair came up with probably the first of his senile-politician-waiting-to-be-kicked-out-of-office proposals the other day. It signifies that he wants to be pushed, rather than do the honourable thing and resign from his leadership. Alternatively, the guy is serious. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
What the PM wants to do is to target children of supposedly dysfunctional families to prevent them growing up to become troublemakers. Babies and Toddlers with ASBOs, I hear you ask?
“No, I mean before they are born.”
That was a quote from a Newsnight interview. I didn’t hear wrong.
At long last, the application form to become a British citizen is on my desk. Suddenly I begin to doubt that this is such a good move. But I read through the Naturalisation guide anyway. I have to chew on the fact that swearing allegiance to the Queen is a legal requirement—I mean, why not put the Pope in charge? Anyway, I think I may be able to do that with crossed fingers as it is publicly known that I’m not a monarchist. But then, there’s the test.
The website offers people help with using a mouse and keyboard and then asks questions such as ‘What are the public holidays in Britain. What are the four national holidays?’ (Do you even know the four national saints?)
Worse: ‘Do women have equal rights to men? Do they receive equal pay?’ —What do they want to hear from a graduate of St. Hilda’s?
After twenty years of living in this country, I cannot answer these questions. Neither can John. The solution: order the handbook from the home office and learn by rote. There isn’t an online version.
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Denni