Saturday, 11 August 2012

I had a dream.

I had a dream. 

In my dream Britain was a place where the Union flag was displayed unashamedly and not commandeered for a racist cause.

In my dream ordinary people became famous for actually being good at something. 

We won things left, right and centre.

Sports commentators abandoned impartiality and jumped up and down gleefully and got emotional talking to brave losers.

In my dream the front pages of national newspapers were filled with inspiring photos of people achieving  greatness: jumping off boats in pure joy, sitting astride dancing horses, weeping during the National Anthem.

In my dream un-named  volunteers were valued for getting up at 3am to travel to the
capital and smile and say 'Have a nice day'.

In my dream people chatted to each other on the Tube. Unusually helpful signage told you how to get to your destination.

Flower meadows flourished alongside state of the art venues that regenerated the inner city.

In my dream 'multiculturalism' was not a political war of words but real faces and stories - people from many ethnicities who were proud to make their Britain 'Great'.

In my dream women achieved as much success as men with a remarkable lack of glass ceilings.

In my dream C list celebrities, reality TV and talent shows were absent. Instead Champions were those who overcame childhood asthma and difficult beginnings as refugees.

In an incredible twist to my dream, the Queen made a spectacular film début; a handful of non embarrassing younger royals cheered other people on and Andy Murray won at Wimbledon. 

It was a wonderful dream. 

I did not want to wake up from it.

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