Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Thursday, 8 October 2015
Today, so the BBC tells me, is National Poetry Day here in the UK. I'm also on a little holiday to London.
I have learned something this morning over coffee because of it, and I am amazed that I did not know this before, although I think I have always suspected it: There are no such people as the 'Welsh'.
Apparently, 'Welsh' is an Anglo-Saxon term meaning something like, 'those strange people over there'.
The earliest poem ever to be written in the English language was read out beside the very subject of it, and it was another Anglo-Saxon poem about the ruins of the Roman Baths, when they were ruins even then, in the 9th century AD.
The good old Anglo-Saxons had such a way with words, and Rachel's blog would be lost without the choicest four-letter ones which she uses on a daily basis.
It seems that up until the Norman invasion and right through the Dark Ages, we were a series of island tribes united by a common dislike for each other.
Then as soon as we became the Untied Kingdom, we started treating each other as foreigners.
The first King of all England was crowned at Bath Abbey in the 9th century. That must have been when the Welsh were born as the Welsh. Divide and rule.