National Identity: Languages

Mrs. Gillan: To ask the Secretary of State for Justice whether the United Kingdom has an official language. [254736]

Mr. Wills: The UK does not have an official language defined in statute, although English is the predominant language by custom and usage. In addition, under the European Charter for Regional and Minority Languages the UK Government has recognised Welsh, Scottish Gaelic, Irish, Scots, Ulster Scots and Cornish as minority languages within the UK.

From yesterday’s Hansard. 

Did you know that English is not our official language? Shouldn’t it be? 

How long before English is recognised as a minority language within the UK?

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 11:30

Good luck out there Karen! I’ll try to get Old Smuddy to leave something on
e-bay for you to bid on later.

Karen February 11, 2009 at 11:21

I’m off out into the real world. Wish me luck…

Karen February 11, 2009 at 11:12

My Mother used to work with Fred the Shred (one of the guilty bankers –
thee most if you ask my mother – when he left what I shall call Bank X – there
was cheering and celebrations). He’s retired now and his bonus’ and pension
are safe as banks before he worked for them. The swearing from my Mum is
shocking.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 10:54

I’ll settle myself down with the silver-polish and some darning (yeah,
right) and hope that the remote’s batteries withstand a morning’s relentless
channel-hopping.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 10:41

A mellifluous morning to all you. I’m looking forward to another day of
televised derision, evasion, justification, mock-contrition and inquisition!
And I’m hoping there’s another episode of Bankers Wriggling On The End Of A
Hook today too.

Anna Raccoon
February 11, 2009 at 10:45

Yes, last Prime Ministers Question time today before they all go off on
their hols again…….back to their ‘second homes’………

Karen February 11, 2009 at 09:36

Oh, I’ll be lurking around in the night too… inbetween buying stuff on
Amazon and bidding for stuff on ebay.

Saul February 11, 2009 at 09:24

Bloody Hell! Is that the time!

Karen February 11, 2009 at 09:17

I don’t have time to sleep.
I do sleep for about 5 hours out of every 24
but it’s anyone’s guess when those five hours are (I once spent 3 hours asleep
in the Arches nightclub with my friends dancing round me like a handbag).

Anna Raccoon
February 11, 2009 at 09:22

Saul is usually around in the middle of the night, as is Coco………

Karen February 11, 2009 at 09:12

Hi everyone.

My Mum’s family speak Gaelic, my boyfriend speaks Irish… I speak Mockney
with a slightly Scottish accent.

Anna Raccoon
February 11, 2009 at 09:14

Well Hello Karen!

Great to see you, another insomniac if I remember correctly?

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:51

janes 02.11.09 at 12:47 am
Huh! All right I

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:50

janes! You know your stuff alright! The bio was horrid! A proper measure of
the gal without a doubt.

The reason we remember everything so well is that the characters were so
uncomplicated and vivid ………… And Enid gave us hope! ……… Especially after a
gruelling day doing algebra and all manner of posturing for the gymnastics
teacher ………….

She made us feel like life was one long Summer ………… Ahhhhh! Sigh!

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:47

Huh! All right I’m going. Moist – now that’s a word you can say with
feeling.

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:46

SAUL!!! Where are you? I want to lock you in a darkened room again tonight!
I cannot find you anywhere ………. Hurry up!

I want to dine at the bottom of the garden again and I don’t enjoy myself
as much if I don’t know that you are panicking in a darkened room with the
French windows open ……….. Which Cuddle Cat do you want me to leave on the
shelf?

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:42

Chatelaine ………… ‘Anyway, had to look up

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:40

And why did they always refer to cousins as cousin ******? Cousin Alison
was a real pain. And as for Angela Favourleigh … yuk and Gwendoline Lacy – you
see I really know my stuff!

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:39

Loved them both – the dream was nearly ruined when I read an EB biography
though.

Actually I wanted to go to the place the naughtiest girl in the school went
to -Wheatleaf or something – or Summerhill

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:37

Noooooooooo – never, not even with sweet lime juice. Lashings of almost
anything else though! Something that goes really well with cigarettes is more
cigarettes.

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:37

Didn’t you just beg your parents to send you to Mallory Towers and St.
Claire’s?

Didn’t you just want a pony called Flicka?

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:35

janes! Good ginger beer is really good for your blood and brain. If you
cannot bear ginger tea or beer ………….. just pop a dash of sweet lime juice in
it …………….. Mmmmm! You feel clean inside and out. Lovely for smokers! So
refreshing ……….

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:32

I am a true EB fan and have not yet grown out of most of the books. I
confess I no longer read Noddy or The Secret Seven (though I feel tempted to
read Noddy just so I can talk about gollywogs) but the rest are still great.
The Faraway Tree was the best of the lot for imagination. I nearly fell by the
wayside when I had my first taste of ginger beer, ugh … but I forgave her for
her lies and kept on reading.

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:31

I wonder if Carol Thatcher was brought up on Enid Blyton? I wonder if she
remembers The Three Golliwogs ………… whose names I will not even fucking dare to
mention …………..

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:29

Bon nuit Gloria! May your dreams be filled with vivid prophecies that you
can pass on to Gordie Bruney in the morning! He need a soothsayer right now
…………… I feel a sense of foreboding around his trossocks!

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:27

janes! How I loved Enid Blyton ………… Kids wandering off with complete
strangers and having all kinds of adventurous encounters. Being tied up in
dungeons with tight ropes and chased down pot-holes into caves and dangerous
waters. Good wholesome clean fun. Policemen getting them out of tricky
situations ………… unlike nowadays where the Police deliberately put kids IN
tricky situations!

Enid’s kids were always on time for tea with hot sticky buns in a nice
normal family where nobody had manic depression or money worries.

Ahhhhh! I am sure though that George and Julian were gay and lived happily
ever after on lashings of ginger beer ……….. It’s just that Enid wanted to keep
us guessing.

I think that maybe Dick went on to have severe mental problems later in
life and that probably Anne ended up as a call-girl for Members of Parliament
and High Society people ………….. Because she had lovely long golden hair like
all pretty women have …………. So i cannot think of anything else she would have
done really ………….. She was much too pretty to commit to just one man and have
his babies …………

I also reckon that Timmy was cloned by Uncle Quentin the scientific boffin
…………. because I often see dogs just like Timmy!

I think Uncle Quentin still works for Gordie Bruney in Real Life!

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:22

Good for you!

Well, kittens, I must now bid you all a fond good night. Have fun. x

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:19

I still do!

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:18

Most pathetic. I never read the Faraway Tree but I was jolly keen on The
Famous Five and their ginger-beer fuelled japes and capers. Read them
voraciously.

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:16

And Dick in the Famous Five became Rick. Pathetic not?

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:15

Frannie

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:15

It seems completely normal to me Coco. I knew a little boy who fell in love
with Marylin Monroe when he was aged about 9 months. He has always had great
taste in women – never reciprocated though!

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:14

What did ‘they’ change Fanny’s name to?

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:14

Ch

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:12

janes Darling!
‘Feic off Coco, did you not know the Irish don

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:12

Thanks Chatelaine – it’s lovely in translation and I bet it sounds
wonderful when spoken out loud.

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:11

No tense moments – just recitation with enthusiasm and great feeling. They
changed the name Fanny in Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree trilogy. As a child I had
a friend called Fanny – Fanny became funny about the same time gay became
sad.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:10

janes – so are you in favour of todays fashion for a sac, back and
craic?

Ch February 11, 2009 at 00:09

I’m a google starlet

Ch February 11, 2009 at 00:08

O Mary of Graces and Mother of God,
may I tread in the paths that the
righteous have trod.
And mayest thou save me from evil’s control,
and
mayest thou save me in body and soul.

And mayest thou save me by land and by sea,
and mayest thou save me from
tortures to be.
May the guard of the angels around me abide,
may God be
before me and God at my side.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:08

janes – it must also have made for some tense moments during recitals,
surely?

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:07

There’s a very old English name: Fanny. Which, if correctly pronounced,
sounds just like Fanny. You couldn’t make it up, could you?

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:06

It is indeed easy for me to say. Did you know that feic is the verb ‘to
see’ in Irish – we used to have fun with that one whilst reciting tenses.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:06

Bother! I was just warming up for a plum-fest. Rats.

Ch February 11, 2009 at 00:05

Fook, fook

Did you know that there’s a very old Dutch girls’ name: Fokje?
Which, if
correctly pronounced closely resembles … yes …
Can you imagine such a girl
moving to GB?

Anyway, had to look up ‘mellifluous’ and it translates like: honingzoet, or
zoetvloeiend.

Now try and pronounce that 10 times and go to bed.

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:05

here I am

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:04

Chatelaine! Many
was the time and oft that if certain newscasters were speaking in rough and
uncultured dialects my Father and I would press 888 for subtitles on the
TV!

There was also a period of time when the BBC newscasters were so busy
pushing plums around inside their mouths that they became ridiculous. Dad
thought that Moira Stewart/Stuart was actually straining plums in her mouth!

Errrrrrr ……. Saul and Gloria! ………… No more needs to be said on this subject
of plums in mouths!

Gloria Smudd
February 11, 2009 at 00:03

A Mhuire na ngr

janes February 11, 2009 at 00:01

Feic off Coco, did you not know the Irish don’t say fuck?

Coco February 11, 2009 at 00:00

janes ………… You are right! Some Irish people undoubtedly have a mellifluous
tone to their voice ………… And funnily enough – here I am …………. still sat next
to my apiary ………… crooning to the bees.

Maybe if I slurp a few more spoons of honey a day – I will be able to
achieve the same timbre ……………

Words like fuck are so hard to achieve this mellifluousness with though
………. However I shall endeavour to succeed with this ……………

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:59

If he’d come from Tyne & Wear you would have really had a problem – a
Scottish accent is childsplay by comparison.

Ch February 10, 2009 at 23:58

I have a Scottish friend, who frightens me when he phones, because then I
cannot read his lips. He once said in a bigger company, that – living in
France for a couple of years now, he was thinking of taking French lessons. We
all said, as from one mouth: take English lessons first.

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:57

Which bit Gloria?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 23:55

That’s easy for you to say, janes.

Ch February 10, 2009 at 23:55

BTW I think Scottish is very sexy too

Ch February 10, 2009 at 23:51

O Mary of Graces
Good night Janes

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:46

Off to inflict secondary smoke on some spiders and then to bed, perchance
to sleep. It’s been a blast and I’ve enjoyed babbling.

A Mhuire na ngr

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:32

Ah yes, Italian, a very sexy language. But do you not think English spoken
with some gentle Irish accents is also sexy?

Coco February 10, 2009 at 23:25

janes …………. I know what you mean! My nails are almost doubled back on
themselves like cats claws. If I don’t get a nail appointment this week, I
will be using my knuckles to punch the keys.

They are so bad that I cannot remove my eye-liner from the corners of my
eyes as I weep over this business of losing our language.

I have to admit though ………….. I sound sexier in Real Life if I speak German
or French ……………

Maybe I will learn Italian properly and speak a more romantic language for
a change …………

Coco February 10, 2009 at 23:21

Demain indeedy Chatelaine! Indeedy!

Indeedy is a little-known colloquialism Chatelaine …………….. so it may not be
in the dictionary …………… But my family have used it for years.

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:21

she said she was …. see, if there was a God he/she/it would not have been
so cruel as to let me make TWO more spelling mistakes.

janes February 10, 2009 at 23:19

When asked what religion she was, he said he was an athiest. But what God
don’t you believe in enquired the Belfast man, the catholic one or the
protestant one?

Ch February 10, 2009 at 23:15

Coco, that’s a very good advice: sing!
I do it all the time in the
kitchen, when alone… Hm, alone… the dogs don’t mind. They love me anyway.

Good night to you et al.
It’s been a long night in life.
Hope 2cu
demain.

Coco February 10, 2009 at 23:14

I have spent my life doing that Saul!

Oh sorry! Just seen the line underneath!!! I thought you meant ………..

JANES! That is outrageous! Ludicrous! If Clearence Mitchell or any other
Media Monitor sees that he will probably prosecute you for spreading rumour
and malice ……………..

However, I will try to protect you from them …………….. I shall say, ‘Forgive
her Clearance! Forgive her, for she knows not what she is doing.’

janes! God is alive …………. he came round the house last week ………..

janes February 10, 2009 at 22:43

Sorry Coco, was temporarily distracted by life. God is dead.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 22:35

Coco, I’m disappointed you won’t have your bits out for the L.A.D.S.

Life Accentuating Donor Scheme.

Coco February 10, 2009 at 22:34

janes! I am extra-scared now! Not only am I afraid of talking and writing
……….. I am now afraid of donating my bits as well ………….

Coco February 10, 2009 at 22:28

I am singing janes! Singing my heart out! But ……….. I can’t have a donor
card because I have a Methodist friend who told me that I will either be
completely fucked or at a distinct disadvantage during the Resurrection if I
haven’t got all my bits intact ……………

Please help me out on this. Is there definitely a God? Will all our bones
and rotting flesh really be resurrected or is my friend taking the piss?

I am very concerned about this as I am not a very well person ……………. Am I
doomed?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 22:18

I’m speechless. You won’t hear another peep out of me.

janes February 10, 2009 at 22:13

You’re a real bobby dazzler Gloria

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 22:11

You hum it, I’ll pellet. x

Saul February 10, 2009 at 22:10

Right, I’ll be Bobby Charlton.

janes February 10, 2009 at 22:10

Night Tawny one

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 22:07

That’s a good idea, Anna; we mustn’t expect you to be in raptors about the
way another of your serious threads is being dominated by a bunch of jesses;
it must stick in your craw thinking that none of us Kes about your feelings.
But we doo-hoo, Anna, we most definitely doo-hoo.

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 22:08

Owl be saying good night t’woo………

janes February 10, 2009 at 22:07

T’woo.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 22:04

You are a Hoot!

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 22:05

T’wit.

janes February 10, 2009 at 22:04

Oh Coco, you sound like you’re in trouble, goodness gracious me – my advice
is sing woman, sing as loudly as you can. Sing to the trees, sing to the bees,
sing your heart out – and remember to sign a donor form.

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 22:05

Janes, I sent her the Zeitgeist DvD and she’s been like this ever
since…my fault!

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 22:01

Howl do you think I feel?

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 22:04

I’m an hour later than you and I’m about to fall off me perch, so time
for me to flee the nest.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 22:00

Wise words G.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 22:00

Would owl eye to you?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:57

Don’t take on so, Anna – it’ll turn out owl right in the end, I
promise…

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 21:58

OK, I trust you, you sure now?

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:53

Of course there is a remedy my dear Coco. Ask Auntie Dot or Aunt
Ithesis.

Coco February 10, 2009 at 21:46

janes 02.10.09 at 9:25 pm
Wit is the ability to engage in gay repartee
without hesitation. Hesitation of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the
young, of physical weakness in the
old.
***********************************************************************
janes!
Oh janes! Please will you be my doctor? I am becoming increasingly more and
more hesitant! I fear for my own safety even crossing the road these days
never mind making utterances in public places like here.

I live in fear of The New World Order directing my speech and telling me
what I can and can’t say ………….. Clarence Mitchell features in my dreams and I
have intrusive thoughts about him putting me in a keep-net and slicing slivers
from my tongue and fingertips.

Am I doomed? Is there a remedy? If there is ……………… please send it to me
through the ether.

Yours desperately, Coco.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:39

Atlas shrugged. (too late Anna)

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 21:56

Sob, sob, sob………

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 21:57

Bangs head on table……..

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:37

Please don’t confuse decay with dial up. (tips hat to satellite
connections)

Coco February 10, 2009 at 21:36

Aaaaaaahhhh! And gone are the days when I looked at an Atlas and all the
lands were pink or had pink bits …………………

Since the English have lost their identity they are now on the verge of
losing their language …………… Now I know how the Welsh and the Cornish feel
………………… It’s not fair. We simply must call to arms over this!

I fear we are doomed to forever use text-speak …………. and I absolutely
despair for teenagers.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:36

…. Over (to) you …

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:31

Blinking ‘eck, we’ll drive her cwazy.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:29

Mental and dental, janes, mental and dental.

janes February 10, 2009 at 21:28

Do I sense mental decay?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:27

Erm … um, .. I er, .. hmm … erm ..

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:25

If we keep this up, Anna will be ‘owling, but not with mirth.

janes February 10, 2009 at 21:25

Wit is the ability to engage in gay repartee without hesitation. Hesitation
of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the young, of physical weakness in
the old.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:24

Too wit, ’tis troo. (Shall we just get this over with, otherwise I won’t
have time to fix the shingles.)

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:21

Too wit, to yoo?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:19

You wit not what?

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:15

I don’t know wit is it?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 21:10

And wit’s the noblest frailty of the mind.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:08

What light beyond Green door breaks, ’tis Shakes Stevens.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 21:01

Use every man after his dessert, and who should ‘scape whipping cream?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 20:59

Nonsense! Warmly fine anatomy, this!

Saul February 10, 2009 at 20:48

Frailty, thy name is woman.

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 21:03

Blog, thy name is Raccoon.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 20:45

It’s like, by gorge! I didn’t like realise the subject of hammies would
like trigger such a Shakes-fest? – go Bill? And respec’ to ‘amster Haitch?
Innit.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 20:21

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio Hamster,
Than are
dreamt of in your philosophy.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 19:48

Ahh my poor hamster, it died in a recent accident…….fell asleep at the
wheel!

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 19:53

Alas, poor You I knew him, Hamster, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most
excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a
thousand times, and now
how abhorr’d in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it.

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 18:00

Stirrer, that’s, like, sooooo like, I mean, like, true innit?

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 18:11

Arriving at a UK airport, I looked around for the ladies toilet –
couldn’t see one, couldn’t see a sign. Eventually I enquired at the arrivals
desk….the sour faced bitch looked up at me with a withering glance and
pointed to a sign right over her head……it appeared to be written in sanscrit
or hindu, german, french and everything else in between……right at the far
end of the sign was the symbol for a ladies toilet………………nowhere on the sign
did the word ‘ladies toilet’ appear……they obviously had more faith in the
literacy of foreigners than the English!
Then again, perhaps they were
only concerned with non-English speakers discovering its whereabouts!

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 17:38

janes – it was definitely a dam ‘amster, the rotter.

I believe Saul once ‘ad a ‘amster. Per’aps ‘e’ll tell you what ‘appened to
it.

Stirrer February 10, 2009 at 17:34

English already is a minority language, judging by the series of
incomprehensible grunts interspersed with ‘innit’ that masquerades as
communication that I overhear in the street. The only people speaking fluently
are Poles (in Polish) and the native middle class (in English).

janes February 10, 2009 at 17:29

Having spent nine long years being forced to learn Irish, based on my
accidental birth in Ireland, I wish to legally uphold my right to regard
English as my mother tongue.

janes February 10, 2009 at 17:24

Are you sure it was an ‘amster and wasn’t a guinea pig rushin’ around?

Gloria Smudd
February 10, 2009 at 13:27

Saul Greek to me.

“I saw a mouse! Where? There on the stair, where on …” ..Oh. No. False
alarm. It wasn’t a mouse. It was a dam ‘amster.

Saul February 10, 2009 at 13:05

Howay, whit aboot Geordie?

Anna Raccoon
February 10, 2009 at 13:12

A sub-dialect of double-dutch is it not?