Aspies For Freedom

A SONG OF PATRIOTIC PREJUDICE

By Michael Flanders and Donald Swann

This song starts with, I think, very typical English Understatement.

The English, the English, the English are best;
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

The rottenest bits of these islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers.
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot -
You'll find he's a stinker, as likely as not.

The Scotsman is mean, as we're all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair.
He eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And he hasn't got bishops to show him the way!

The English, the English, the English are best;
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

The Irishman now our contempt is beneath.
He sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth.
He blows up policemen, or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and William the Third!

The English are noble, the English are nice,
And worth any other at double the price

The Welshman's dishonest and cheats when he can
And little and dark, more like monkey than man.
He works underground with a lamp in his hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!

And crossing the Channel, one cannot say much
Of the French and the Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are German, the Russians are red,
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed!

The English are moral, the English are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood.

And all the world over, each nation's the same;
They've simply no notion of playing the game.
They argue with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practise beforehand which ruins the fun!

The English, the English, the English are best -
So up with the English and down with the rest.

It's not that they're wicked or naturally bad -
It's knowing they're foreign that makes them so mad!

For the English are all that a nation should be,
And the flower of the English are Donald (Michael)
Donald (Michael) and Me!

A SONG OF NEURODIVERSE PRIDE

This song starts with, I think, very typical Neurodiverse Understatement.

The N.D.s, the N.D.s, the N.D.s are best;
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

The rottenest bits of this planet of ours
We've left in the hands of some unfriendly powers.
Examine the Socialite, Curebie or Jock -
You'll find he's a stinker, as likely as not.

The Curebie is mean, as we're all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair.
He promotes funny diets, he scowls all the day
And he hasn't got braincells to show him the way!

The N.D.s, the N.D.s, the N.D.s are best;
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

The Socialite now our contempt is beneath.
She sleeps in her makeup and lies through her teeth.
She looks down on the N.D.s, or so it is claimed
And blames it on eye contact, social skills and brains!

The N.D.s are noble, the N.D.s are nice,
And worth any other at double the price

The Jock is dishonest and cheats when he can
And is violent and cruel, more like Klingon than man.
He bullies the nerds and wears a stupid team hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!

And crossing the planet, one cannot say much
Of the doctors and therapists, the DAN, CAN or such;
The researchers are useless, the psychologists suck,
And dieticians make us eat inedible muck!

The N.D.s are moral, the N.D.s are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood.

And all the world over, each N.T.'s the same;
They've simply no notion of playing the game.
They argue with science, they deny that they're wrong
And they change the rules proving they’re right all along!

The N.D.s, the N.D.s, the N.D.s are best -
So up with the N.D.s and down with the rest.

It's not that they're wicked or naturally bad -
It's knowing they're N.T. that makes them so mad!

For the N.D.s are all that a neurology should be,
And the flower of the N.D.s are Aspies (Auties)
Aspies (Auties) and Me!