Grotesque notion that Iceland should find themselves compelled to approach those vultures the IMF. I know they had a flutter and lost, and so theoretically all is fair at the poker table. But the IMF? Telling proud Norse folk that they should "...like, totally cease social provision, deregulate their economy, flog off their natural energy and marine resources wholesale at bargain prices to a favoured multinational and offer their daughters and cuter sons up at auction..." etc. No, that's not right, and about halfway through tomorrow morning I think that nation will remember that for them there is an alternative.
Viking, being also a verb, is like riding a bicycle, only more so, I would imagine, in that once it's in your genetic inheritance the skill and instinct comes back in a trice. Remember the Cod War? No, I don't either, quite, but all I've read suggests they gave us what for.
The solution is close at hand. Iceland, may I offer you London? The Thames is navigable for container ships as far as Tilbury, gunboats and lighter craft can probably get as far Richmond with no bother, depending on the tide. Don't worry about the Royal Navy, they're still tied up out east. Army ditto. As for the cops, ha, ha. Your opposition will consist of some overweight wheezing PCSOs and numerous catatonic security guards. Short work for the halberd and axe.
You won't need all of it, just the juicy bits. I'll draw you a map, like the sort our tourist board gives to visitors. Chelsea's on the river, Knightsbridge up the road, you're welcome to it. You already have most of Regent Street. Take the lot. Just let me know when you'll be dropping by so I can be out of town for the weekend.
Words, from a mostly metrocentric perspective. See Metrocentricity for pictures.
12 October 2008
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