The Master Race is Dying Out Again

As the nation's independence from the greasy Euro-wogs reveals itself in all its empty-shelved, unheated glory, so the doughty denizens of the realm's marketplace of ideas are striving to portray the new and magnificent vistas of Britishness that still await us. A centrist (right-wing, in Oldspeak) think-tank, the Social Market Foundation, has detected a continuing decline in the birth-rate despite the exertions of the country's premier Johnson, and has eructated forth an oracular squeal about the perils of quantitative shrinkage in the work-force. Since government-funded child-care is as much against the national religion as letting the wogs back in, we may yet have to rely on good old Vatican morals to keep the pleb-stock breeding and ensure a numerically adequate and racially pure drudge-force. Nevertheless, whatever labour pains lie ahead, it is impossible not to stand in awe at the degree of Britishness involved in spending years and fortunes on a hostile environment for migrants only to end up with a shortage of natives.