It’s not every day that the tranquil, winding lanes of rural England find themselves hosting an unexpected American political celebrity, but Vice President J.D. Vance has brought his holiday charm – along with, it seems, a hefty dose of security paranoia – to this sleepy corner of the countryside. For residents accustomed to the gentle hum of village life, the sudden arrival of such a high-profile figure has turned their quiet hamlet into an impromptu stage for international intrigue.
The unusual saga began with a series of polite but perplexing visits from local police officers, knocking on doors with an air of official curiosity. These weren’t the usual inquiries about stolen garden gnomes, missing cats, or the occasional rogue sheep wandering into someone’s vegetable patch. Instead, the officers came armed with a rather modern mission: to compile a detailed list of who exactly lives in the area and, more intriguingly, what their social media handles might be. Picture the scene – officers in high-visibility jackets, clipboards in hand, asking, “Do you have an Instagram? What about TikTok or Twitter?” It’s a far cry from the traditional British bobby investigating a petty theft.
Yes, nothing quite captures the essence of a “relaxing holiday” like the local constabulary diligently building a spreadsheet of your online presence – presumably to ensure that a seemingly innocent post like “Had fish and chips today 🍟🐟 #BatteredNotFried” isn’t secretly a coded threat to democracy or a signal to some shadowy global conspiracy. One bewildered resident, caught off guard by the unexpected interrogation, couldn’t help but ask if this was all about a terrorism scare. The officer’s response – “No, sir, the Vice President’s here” – only deepened the confusion, leaving the poor villager to ponder whether this was a compliment or a cause for concern.
So far, the exact purpose of Vice President Vance’s visit remains shrouded in mystery, fueling a delightful array of local rumours. Some speculate he’s retreated to the rolling hills to pen his memoirs, perhaps reflecting on his political journey with a quill in hand and a cup of tea by his side. Others, with a touch more whimsy, suggest he’s embarked on a culinary quest to discover the world’s finest scone, sampling the buttery delights of every tearoom from Gloucestershire to Oxfordshire. Whether he’s drafting a bestseller or chasing the perfect pastry, one thing is clear: his presence has turned this quaint English retreat into a hotspot of speculation.
In the meantime, locals have been gently advised to keep their online behavior beyond reproach. The message is subtle but unmistakable – post with caution. That candid selfie with the pub’s resident tabby cat, basking in the afternoon sun, might seem harmless enough, but heaven forbid it’s misinterpreted as a cryptic dispatch to the Kremlin. And if you’re tempted to share your thoughts with a “Lovely day in the Cotswolds 🌞” caption, choose your emojis wisely – because nothing could sour a peaceful British holiday faster than finding yourself unexpectedly flagged on the Vice President’s security watchlist.
As the village adjusts to its newfound status as a temporary American political outpost, residents are left to navigate this unusual intersection of rural charm and high-stakes security. Whether Vance is here to unwind, work, or simply indulge in a bit of British hospitality, his visit has injected a dose of unexpected excitement into the daily rhythm of life. For now, the only certainty is that the next time someone posts about their fish and chips, they might just double-check the hashtag before hitting “send.”
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I would be more concerned about the paranoid intrusive reaction of the UK county police than the gun totin’ US security cortege. As for JDV – he is a non-event going somewhere to happen!
A V.P. from Trumpestilence, (hiding?) a grating grubby griftish grotty goat, is newsless stuff, undereducated, unsuitable, unfit…
Talk about fucking overreach! If Vance can’t cope with people making online comments which he will probbly never read, he needs a good healthy dose of GrowTheFuckUpYouJerk.
He went fishing in the Cotswolds without a licence – lock him up!
AND SO THE CONVERSATION GOES
If a policeman knocked on my door and said by way of odd explanation in his/her defence ‘No sir, the Vice-President is here’. My first question would be, ‘Officer/Inspector, whose Vice-President would that be?’ poised in my seemingly curious and sociable manner (really), taking nothing for granted in the emerging presumption, to seek and clarify the fact, opportunity and motive of this unexpected line of enquiry – not to mention the thousands of possible Vice-Presidents of countries, corporations and organisations of repute or disrepute there are.
My next likely response would be, ‘and exactly what has this got do with me?’, much as Inspector Foyle might cast some initial doubt on the motive of a policeman’s knock on my door, and a reasonable polite and social critique of such authoritarian paranoia and presumption. Yup you could call it role reversal, and I chose Foyle here because he has integrity, he would know better.
My third question would be, ‘Should I be worried?’ expecting the officer to respond saying, ‘this is just a routine enquiry and security to eliminate you from any further enquiries’. But let’s not fall into the same trap.
‘Hmmm.. I think you misunderstand me officer, what I meant was should I be worried on my behalf, my safety and security?’ as I silently muse on the legitimate sense of belonging in my own home, and then raise my eyebrow as if to say, ‘you are on my doorstep and I have nothing to hide, still not sure I understand why you are here’. But I am pretty certain as the police officer shuffles slightly as if I were leading down a path of obstruction of a ‘routine enquiry’ brow raised a little higher, at my forthcoming resistance to arrest (officer’s presumption or lead, not mine, well a little countertransference is possible).
‘Do you have a Facebook, Instagram, Tik-Tok, X-Twitter or other online social media account, sir?’ ‘Ah’, says I in a sudden rush of false embarrassment and genuine honesty, ‘I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that?’
‘Well sir, do you?’
‘I don’t mean to be ‘that’ impolite, officer, but I don’t see what business that is of this JD Vance fellah, was that the name of this Vice-President, whoever this is you speak of? I have never met the man, isn’t he from some far off land most of us are trying to forget about?’ Clearly Hollywood and Fox News haven’t done their job very well.
Police Officer looks at his feet and up again with a growing scowl of impatience, adding a sigh of poorly regulated irritability, ‘no sir (sarcastic intonation emerges), it is my duty and business to ask you this question?’, all the while he is thought projecting in mocking terms ‘we have a right one here, another smart arse’. And here’s me thinking well, you may be right, most would seem to be to those in uniform, dressed to kill, who believe this is a reasonable line of enquiry on the threshold of another’s home.
I look the officer in the eye with the intent of noting and acknowledging that duty, but with no intention of giving the question the respectful attention to duty the officer thinks it might deserve.
‘Do you have a Facebook, Instagram, Tik-Tok, X-Twitter or other online social media account?’
‘And what if I do officer, where is this leading?’
Another officer turns up on the doorstep to lend support to this one way cannonball enquiry, and says, ‘Is there a problem here?’ Note there are more police mustering with no particular intent in the street. This is not London, these are the rolling hills of the Cotswolds, just to remind ourselves of where we are. The transparent beauty and sanctuary of which goes seemingly tragically unnoticed and unrealised.
I am not clear on who this question is directed at, so once again I look the first officer in the eye, expecting to convey the assumption it is meant for him.
Staring match begins (here we go) as the first officer gets out his notepad and pen. I wonder silently if it is loaded. So now I move to a statement of declaration and assurance.
‘I can assure you officers, you have nothing here to worry about.’
They look at each other as if I am in denial, person under suspicion or a potential terrorist, which begs some counterpoint or declaration of proof of intention and innocence – time to de-escalate. But what do they know about our democratic Constitution without a lawyer or magistrate by my side, or someone wearing a Texan cowboy or MAGA golfing hat, and few strategically placed ballboys.
I thank them for their concern regarding my welfare, politely suggest closure and presumption of normal life and duties, “I have things to attend to and you don’t want to waste your time any more than you have to’. But they are reluctant to leave. Wasting other people’s time is no insight into that of your own.
They hover like Jehovah Witnesses, Paparazzi or debt collectors , trying to extend the conversation and cross-examine my beliefs and motives, whereupon I remind them this is my home. They are intruding on my doorstep with no reasonable cause, doubt, no evidence, no meaningful purpose to question me further, other than being a general nuisance, disingenuous, operating beyond their legal brief and call of duty – such is the influence this ‘nutcase moron’ from USA and his entourage (note foreign country), and his unwelcome intrusion into our country, my neighbourhood and home. Hells bells, we are paying for this in our taxes with a stamp on our forehead, ‘please interrogate me, I have nothing better to do’. But now the cat’s out of the bag, they can see it in the misty fog of my nonlinguistic sarcasm.
‘I trust he can enjoy his stay without bothering us all more than he already has’, this being my closing statement of good intent, and that is all the evidence they are entitled to as I hold onto that thin veil and disguise of freedom of thought, belief and free speech, and innocence til proven guilty. A far-far better thing than shoot first and ask questions later. If only subscript could appear in the subtext of our pointless conversations like a text message in a Hollywood film script.
‘I trust he can enjoy his stay…’ Of course, I don’t mean it. What possible reason would possess me to harbour that thought.
Ah me, I think I just got myself arrested without a warrant.
Ha ha! I think you’ve all got yourself arrested too!
As Vance is not the VP of the UK, why are the locals being bothered by inquisitive cops? What if one had revealed a derogatory post, would they have been transported to the local clink for the duration of the visit?
@Perry – They’d put an unmarked car out in the street, tap the phone and climb into our social media accounts – Then take us down to the local for further questioning – Hopefully none of us are supporters of Palestine Action or we’d be thoroughly screwed for up to 14 years. Meanwhile JD criss-crosses the planet with total immunity (not the virus type) just like his President, free to do whatever he wants, whatever the cost, while he is in office – so says the Supreme Court of USA which of course is far more compelling than the ICC, ICJ or UN.
Just which one are they committed to acquiring, Greenland or the Green and Pleasant Land ?
Lucky it’s not Oz. Where the good judge established a precedence where it is completely reasonable to tell such intrusive unwarranted wallopers to “Fuck Off”.
Personally, I would think it’s incumbent on all the locals to display signs in their front windows, in large texta, with messages like”Fuck right off, you jerk”…this could apply to whoever’s walking past.
I find it works a treat where I live.
Beat me to it Clakka,but the message is undimmed.
He arrived in Scotland for the second part of his family holiday. Again, staying at some large country manor house. The arrival of 20 enormous cars with blacked out windows, was met by a small group of protesters and a few bemused looking Scottish police. Quite why, a person of little interest and even less significance requires such a large entourage of people travelling with him is a mystery.
Quite why, Judith asks, does the Amerikan VP require such a large entourage?
Simply stated, Amerikans are up themselves, particularly those who occupy public office. They suffer (hah!) from over-inflated egos, imagining themselves as important, special, refined, essential, and at risk of oblivion by lesser mortals and in need of many men with guns and walkie-talkies to keep them safe.
In essence, a nauseating spectacle, a poor man’s version of the theatre of the absurd, emperors dressed in sackcloth.