Ed Miliband has given a speech about the need to celebrate our English identity, to reclaim our national pride in the same way the Scots have. He wants us to celebrate our Englishness – but baulks at being brave enough to list what that might mean.
Instead, he cobbles together a handful of uplifting stories, about refugees, his own family history, a sporting star (one of his constituents) who cares for her parents who are suffering from cancer. According to Ed, the "essence of English identity is not found with the grandeur of public office in Westminster... but in people coming together in the struggle to improve their lives and the lives of others". This kind of touchy-feely bollocks sounds as if it was written by a group of young freshers in his office, the kind of special advisers Whitehall is over-run with, keen kids who've never done a day's work in the grubby world of manual labour, the factory floor, the department store or supermarket.
Ed's "big idea" could easily pass as one of the Archbishop of Canterbury's more lacklustre sermons. Of course, it's fabulous that all over England people are helping their neighbours, holding street parties and waving their flags. Every country in the world is full of people doing that at special national events – even Uzbekistan, the Ukraine and North Korea. Kindness is part of human nature. We are not born unfeeling – it's something that happens to us as we gradually realise there are two layers of English society– the haves and the have-nots. Ed talks about "the battle to protect the National Health Service", but that is not a battle being waged by ordinary people, defining their nationality.
All citizens pay for the NHS, but they seem to have no control over the fact that vast sums of money are squandered in administration and faulty IT systems, instead of being spent on more frontline services such as nurses and care assistants.
Ed isn't keen on an English Assembly along the lines of the Scottish one: he wants power devolved away from Westminster to locally elected mayors and councils. All that will mean is more duplication, more swanky uniforms, posh cars, expenses and consultants. What Ed should be advocating as truly English is the "make do and mend" spirit that got us through the last world war. Why not bring back National Service, rationing (of sugar, drink and ciggies)? Who's to say a bit of 1950s austerity living wouldn't bring out the best in flabby, unskilled, illiterate, jobless English men and women?
Grayson Perry is the Samuel Pepys of our day, shamelessly noting and collating everything tacky and vulgar that sums up contemporary values, blending it into a unique record of modern Britain. Forget Ed Miliband's feeble attempt to sum up Englishness, Grayson has his finger on the pulse of those tiny nuances of taste that mark out where you stand on the immovable ladder of class. J G Ballard once ruthlessly parodied modern values, setting his dystopian novels in a bleak world where gadgetry, cars and flashy new homes delineated social standing.
Grayson is his rightful heir, the man who we can rely on to leave a true record of what it is to live in Britain 2012, not pompous historians or social commentators such as Alain de Botton.
Perry's latest work, a set of tapestries, on show at Victoria Miro in north London, are based on Hogarth's 18th-century series The Rake's Progress. They tell the story of Tim Rakewell, born to a mum who bears the slogan "I did the best I could, considering his father upped and left". This modern Madonna and child are worshipped by four maidens straight out of Towie, while a pair of tattooed cage fighters kneel in attendance. The proud mother clutches her mobile phone, a can of Red Bull close at hand.
Referencing Renaissance religious painting, Grayson never patronises his subject material – that's what makes his work so exciting. His Channel 4 series In the Best Possible Taste (Tuesdays, 10pm) follows the whole process of putting the tapestries together.
Artists, not politicians, seem best placed to reflect the mood of modern Britain.
On Friday, at York Hall in the East End of London, a famous boxing venue, Kimmo Pohjonen, one of the world's top accordionists, created a unique musical event. I was prepared to be gobsmacked because a few years ago I saw his concerto performed in a farmyard in West Sussex, using sounds made by farm implements, including an ancient potato sorter.
This time, Kimmo recreated an old Finnish tradition from the 1920s, when accordionists accompanied wrestlers during matches, commentating on events through their music, rather like the role of the referee in sumo wrestling, who is dressed like a Shinto priest and displays his fan to denote his opinion of the fighters.
Kimmo used an extraordinary range of sounds emanating from his specially constructed instrument, to attack, encourage and taunt the 12 wrestlers in his troupe, which included two British champions. What a spectacle!
The wrestlers ranged in age from 62 to a girl of 15 – and Kimmo's music displayed their skills as subtly as the best dance piece. Hopefully, this extraordinary work, which will be performed next at the Lincoln Centre in New York, will be available on DVD.
Women grow smarter every day
At last, a fashion writer who's proud to celebrate real women, women who are over 50, women who are proud of their shapes and their wrinkles (like me!). My generation is completely ignored by fashion editors. We seem to be invisible, although many of us have the spending power that the teenage stick insects who populate these glossies generally lack.
Now and then, a token wrinkly might creep on to the catwalk, or feature in a "fashion for all ages" feature, but generally we are non-people as far as planet fashion is concerned. Ari Seth Cohen wants to change all that. He writes an influential blog, Advanced Style, filling it with pictures of stylish older women (up to a 92-year-old) spotted on the street. His mission is to demonstrate that style is something which improves as the years go by.
In his new book, Advanced Style, 200 gorgeous women are showcased and talk about how they put together their personal look. And it has nothing to do with spending a fortune.
GPs are failing us
The NHS has just published the results of its new family doctor rating system. Every practice has received a mark out of 10, based on patient's comments. The results are shocking – more than 90 per cent of surgeries in England aren't open when patients want them, and get a rating of less than 5 out of 10. The average score on this issue was only 3.5.
Many GPs opted out of working weekends and evenings when they signed new contracts drawn up by Labour in 2004. Now, most surgeries close on Saturday mornings and few open late on weekday evenings.
The average salary for a GP is more than £100,000 – and what do patients get in return? A service that isn't tailored to our needs. You can look up how your your local health centre scored by logging on to the NHS Choices website and typing in the postcode. Doctors plan to strike on 21 June over proposed changes to their pensions. Do they exist in the same world as the rest of us? Why should we have to go to pharmacies and surgeries in supermarkets when purpose-built health centres all over the country sit closed for two days a week?Reuse content