Revolution, anyone?

It was Bastille Day yesterdayand, in spite of the British media telling us that we’re the most miserable lot in Europe, I saw no sign of incipient revolution amongst my neighbours.
There was a festival with fireworks, music and dancing, you know, the sort of thing that really miserable nations get up to in order to take their mind off current woes - and with not a Health and Safety numpty in sight to spoil the fun.
But it seems to me that if any nation should be contemplating revolution, it should be the British.
Matters there must be akin to those in Paris on the 13th. of July, 1789 and Downing Street can surely hear the rumble of the tumbrils.
But no doubt Miss Jacqui Smith will have an initiative in hand to stave off the inevitable, such as showing a few severed heads in hospital emergency rooms to discourage les autres.
But unlike the French, who stormed The Bastille, rather unnecessarily as it turned out as it only held seven prisoners - but it’s the thought that counts –
the British can save themselves the trouble.
The government have already released most of the really dangerous ones back into society.
In the spirit of entente cordiale, I’m sure we can rustle up a few guillotines for you.