In a world increasingly mired in the tiresome complexities of multiculturalism and the frankly exhausting notion of individual merit, a new political force has emerged, promising a return to glorious, untainted simplicity. The Send ‘Em Back Party (SEBP), in a move that has simultaneously sent shivers down the spines of historians and the most ardent patriots into paroxysms of delight, has unveiled its audacious, yet, dare we say, refreshingly honest, platform.
At the heart of their manifesto lies a radical, yet undeniably logical, proposition: Prove your roots, or pack your bags. Specifically, in the British Isles, the SEBP proposes a rigorous, scientifically calibrated, and perhaps slightly sweaty, ancestry test for all residents. The threshold? A formidable 90% Pictish or Celtic heritage. If you can’t hack it, brethren, it’s time for a one-way ticket to… well, wherever the Angles, Saxons, Norse, Normans, and any other group who dared to grace these shores with their presence, originally hailed from.
Imagine the possibilities! No more agonising over the nuances of Anglo-Saxon invasions or the lingering influence of Viking settlements. This is history, distilled to its purest, most gene-pool-centric essence. Think of the pristine, unadulterated landscapes, populated solely by those who can trace their lineage back to the misty glens and windswept moors with irrefutable genetic evidence. The SEBP envisions a Britain where every pub landlord is a descendant of a Highland chieftain, every baker a direct descendant of an Irish storyteller, and every politician… well, let’s not get too carried away, but you get the picture.
The implications are, of course, seismic. Suddenly, the historical tapestry of Britain, woven with threads of conquest, migration, and the occasional Viking raid fuelled by questionable dietary choices, becomes a neatly trimmed, monochrome weave. The Norman invasion? Apparently, a mere footnote, easily erased by a quick swab of the cheek. The Industrial Revolution, powered by a diverse array of inventive minds, many of whom likely had ancestors who weren’t exactly born within the sound of Big Ben? A mere blip in the grand, Celtic-dominated narrative.
But the SEBP, in their boundless, albeit somewhat exclusionary, vision, isn’t stopping at our beloved Isles. Oh no. They’ve cast their discerning, gene-detecting gaze across the Atlantic and beyond.
In the United States, a nation built on the grand experiment of welcoming people from all corners of the globe, the SEBP’s solution is elegantly brutal. Non-natives? Deported. Yes, you read that right. Those who arrived after the original indigenous populations – a group whose own ancestral claims might, in the SEBP’s unfettered logic, also be subject to some rather inconvenient questioning – are to be shipped back to their places of origin. Think of the dramatic, if logistically nightmarish, scenes at Ellis Island’s spiritual successor. The Statue of Liberty, perhaps repurposed as a giant, slightly judgemental, genetic scanner.
Similarly, Canada, a land of vast, snowy expanses and a proud reputation for multiculturalism, faces a stark choice: prove your native lineage, or face the frosty embrace of a one-way flight. And Australia, that sun-baked continent, so enthusiastically populated by settlers, must now confront the inconvenient truth that, by SEBP standards, most of its inhabitants are, in fact, recent arrivals. The kangaroo, it seems, may soon be the most authentically Australian native left. And New Zealand, bless its Kiwi heart, will find itself populated by… well, let’s just say anyone who can convincingly argue they were there before the sheep, might have a fighting chance.
The SEBP argues, with the unwavering conviction of a zealot holding a DNA test kit, that this is not about prejudice. It is about authenticity. It is about heritage. It is about reclaiming a pure, unadulterated past that, conveniently, mirrors their own, currently unverified, ancestral claims.
Sceptics might point to the logistical nightmares, the ethical quagmire, the complete dismantling of modern society as we know it. They might even mutter about the inherent absurdity of defining national identity through a single genetic metric. But to these naysayers, the SEBP has a simple, and quite loud, response: “Send ’em back!” After all, in a world clamouring for clear-cut answers, who needs nuance when you have a 90% Pictish requirement? It’s a bold vision, a truly… unique solution, and one that, for sheer audacity, deserves a place in the annals of political satire. Just don’t expect many of the party faithful to be around to write it. They might be busy packing.
Worldwide Temple of Aurora 