IT is fashionable to disparage British traditions, but who among us does not feel a swell of pride as a magnificent Royal carriage dating back to 1902 sweeps by containing a bloated orange pussy-grabber?

Quite simply, no one does pomp and ceremony like us. What other nation could greet a sleazy reality TV groper mired in credible paedophile allegations with a guard of honour of the Household Cavalry, heroes of the Battle of Waterloo?

Or put up the president in Windsor Castle, built by William the Conquerer no less, where he can feel the warp and weft of the vast tapestry of history as he ignores new Epstein revelations suggesting he is not merely a sexual abuser but also a trafficker and nonce?

The naysayers forget that such state visits are a source of pride for every Briton. Is the RA

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