Britain’s angry men are in distress, say psychologists. ‘Kindness towards strangers, tolerance of difference, a generally calmer society – this all sounds positive,’ said Professor Watson of the University of West Huddersfield. “But angry men need an outlet. If they can’t abuse a neighbour for the colour of his skin or shout sexual threats at passing women, where’s all that energy supposed to go?’
Angry men aren’t really joiners so there are no ‘official’ societies for them, though any political movement connected with Nigel Farage seems to be a good place to look. We spoke to Bill (not his real name), an angry man in Stafford.
‘I just want to know – when do we get a parade? The world has changed beyond all recognition. Even my local chippy now has a . . . bloke, do I call him that? . . . anyway, some days he’s in a dress, some days trousers. The chips are as good as ever and I always chat to him, her – fuck me, this is complicated.’
‘In the good old days I’d throw some good-natured banter about and if anybody didn’t like it we could get into a ruck. Nowadays, beat somebody to a pulp because they’ve got foreign skin or whatever and it’s a hate crime. Was it a friendship crime before? Cause we don’t mean nothing by it, it’s how we bond.’
Government policies have contributed to the problem. PE teaching vacancies are down and the police only take graduates. Nightclub door staff have to be registered. There’s always the French Foreign Legion, but it’s both French and Foreign, two words guaranteed to trigger an angry Brit.
Bill is pacing up and down Stafford High Street, twitching every time a schoolgirl with large breasts walks past. He punches himself in the face repeatedly, his tension almost palpable.
‘I don’t know what I’ll do next. Thank God for the Euros. Booing the Kraut anthem was great, and we all laughed at that silly girl crying because her team got thrashed. Get used to it love, there’s loads more where that came from. One world cup and two world wars, doo dah, doo dah.’