And the band played off: a marching band in London. Photograph: Graham Turner
During my daily foray into middle England - the Daily Mail website to be exact, which I visit for a few moments during elevenses - I have come across two desperately sad stories, both perfect metaphors for a nation in decline. Firstly, Basil Brush is being investigated by the Northamptonshire Constabulary over allegations of racism towards Gypsies, stemming from a joke about a fortune-teller predicting a long journey, which turns out to be the walk home, because she's pinched his wallet ... Boom boom.
Secondly, the Band of Her Majesty's Royal Marines has been given its marching orders. Yes I know it's not exactly the ravens leaving the tower, but it's sad nonetheless. Two hundred and fifty years of oom-pah-tiddly-oom-pah biting the dust.
Apparently, not enough musicians are joining the services, and of those who have, too many are now on active duty in Afghanistan to keep the band rolling. I suppose that's one of the drawbacks of being in a military band - wars and things. In the meantime, their musical presence at national functions is to be replaced by CDs played on ghetto blasters. If only the fighting could be replaced by sound-effects records as well, it wouldn't be so bad.
The military has missed a golden recruiting opportunity here. The Band of Her Majesty's Royal Marines should be replaced by DJs and decks. The Sound System of Her Majesty's Royal Marines has a certain ring to it, don't you think? It could be pulled around on a gun carriage, blasting out repetitive beats, mixing in old skool brass, grime, two-step and rapping about what nasty stuff we'll do to rival crews: "If you mess with da UK, you know it's gonna escalate, we'll put you down - do you know what I mean, 'cause we're the band of the Royal Marines."
It would be cheap to run, a perfect reflection of our culture, and would strike fear, or at the very least pity, into the hearts of our enemies. The recruitment offices would be filled from dawn 'til dusk with canon fodder, eager to spin a set for Blighty, and... how shall I put this? If there were to be, say, some collateral damage, a slight shrinkage of the record-revolving population at large, would that necessarily be a completely bad thing? Would we as a nation be able to absorb the loss? Yes, alright, and the same could be said of bloggers.
Although I'm no particular fan of military brass bands - I might feel differently had I fought in a war or two - it is sad that they are going. Sad, and perfectly, Britishly, naff. Mind you, I can't wait for the Trooping the Colour when some hapless wireless operator hits play on a bunker buster by mistake. Boom boom.
