Comments are down, so an email from Simon:

> 3. Except we’re still subjects rather than citizens.

Is untrue as we ceased to be subjects in 1983 under the British Nationality act of 1981.

Simon is right that we are legally citizens; serves me right for repeating a hackneyed old comment. But we are still subjects of HM too.

The British National Act 1981 does, though, serve to reinforce my reason #2 with its very first clauses:

(1) A person born in the United Kingdom after commencement, or in a qualifying territory on or after the appointed day, shall be a British citizen if at the time of the birth his father or mother is–

(a) a British citizen; or

(b) settled in the United Kingdom or that territory.

That said, these may be more like Australian style “affirmation” ceremonies. So you don’t actually get anything out of it except perhaps a “Well done, you got to 18” certificate and some cheese and pineapple nibbles.

Charles Clarke likes the idea of citizenship ceremonies when young people turn 18. And why not? Well…

1. Although 18 is the mimimum voting age, you can leave home and school at 16.
2. Most British nationals are citizens from birth.
3. Except we’re still subjects rather than citizens.
4. Young people travelling abroad require their own passport from 16 and the new ID cards are intended for those 16 and over.
5. It’s a news-catching gimmick that doesn’t tackle the root cause of the social problems it is attempting to solve.
6. The ceremonies are voluntary and therefore won’t attract those un-civic youths the Home Secretary thinks will be transformed into model citizens.
7. It reinforces to under-18s the idea that because they can’t vote they aren’t citizens and that politicians can happily ignore them.

Went to see Team America – World Police last night. Very funny, and not just because it’s as rude and vulgar as it’s creators’ TV series South Park. It satires equally American military action and pacificist actors, and spoofs the action movie genre, with a few nods to Star Wars en route.

Funny songs, faantastic puppetry, and vile humour. But don’t go and see it if you found Jerry Springer – The Opera offensive.

Very pleasant time in the country last weekend. A big group of us had a Youth Hostel (now on the market and very suitable for a secret evil lair for any budding Blofeld) to ourselves. Went for a couple of walks through the countryside (admittedly both ended at pubs); drank beer, cider and wine; had a cream tea (my heart screamed no but my tastebuds insisted); and ate some excellent food, including a magnificent feast on Saturday night for which all credit to the chef who had spent all day preparing it.

We also played various silly games, including the box game which, despite my not insignificant stature, I jointly won.

Met lots of new people, including Rob, and got to know better others I’d met before, including Anders.

The only down site was that despite travelling hundreds of miles by car, I didn’t see the 91 I was looking for until I got back to work on Tuesday.