In the last line of this BBC piece written by Mark Easton, the Home Editor, considering why London’s population now comprises just 45% of “white Brits”, Easton declares, “It is a story of aspiration. It is a story of success“. To which I would add, “It is a piece of risible political correctness gone stark staring mad”.
Only the BBC could analyse the pernicious effects of unfettered immigration and the misguided bollocks of ‘multiculturalism’ – and conclude that it’s all a cause for unmitigated wonderment and joy. God give me strength to resist the BBC’s rising tsunami of bullshit.
Just look at the best-rated comments under the article to learn the reality of life in ‘multicultural’ London these days.
And remember – we’re taxed to have this sort of newspeak crap pumped in to the ether. George Orwell will be chuckling in his grave, muttering, “I told you so …”.
Why have the white British left London?
PS I wonder in which part of London Mr Easton lives? Why not try a nice little bijou apartment in Newham, Mark? Yeah, right.
Moraymint Chatter 
That the top comments all went against the BBC spin is quite telling really. Just goes to show, you can spin and propagandize all you want, but people aren’t stupid. The BBC brigade truly are a despicable bunch
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Before you marry take a long hard look at her mother
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Mrs Moraymint’s looks are stunning – my heart still races when I glance at her … and we’ve been married for 30 years. Fortunately, nature blessed Mrs Moraymint with her father’s temperament … and he was a military man like me, to boot! Thanks for your wise advice …
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True story. My ancestors are British. I visited London for the first time in 1977. I came from the Great American West thinking I would see merry olde England. I thought I was in Calcutta. People in London were asking ME for directions!
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Less than ten years ago my English mother-in-law remarried, in Mexico, a charming Mexican fellow – Guillermo – who was an opera director. He had never been to the UK before but eventually they decided to migrate back here. Within the first weeks of settling here I noticed that he was looking glum and perplexed. When I asked why, it turned out that he thought we all looked, sounded and behaved like people in ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’, or ‘Notting Hill’, or ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ … you get the idea. Indeed, he even thought that we had cause to wear top hats routinely, and that we walked about doffing our headgear to one another and greeting each other with a cheery, “Good morrow, sir!”. What he discovered, of course, was that his local town could have been anywhere in Eastern Europe.
I think he regretted ever having left Mexico. Mind you, if you knew my mother-in-law …
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