The recent restoration of the Milan bull mosaic, a Roman-era treasure, has become a laughingstock across Europe. Italian restorers, in their slapdash incompetence, have turned a dignified ancient artwork into a cartoonish parody. But fear not: British heritage experts, ever the custodians of civilisation, have stepped in with condescending offers of superior guidance.
One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the cultured classes. After all, who better to lecture on preserving the past than a nation that still holds its monarchy in quasi-religious reverence? The irony, of course, is that Britain's own conservation record is littered with botched jobs and ideological reinterpretations.
Yet the spectacle of Milan's bungling has given us the perfect opportunity to reassert our role as the arbiters of taste. Perhaps we should produce a reality show: 'Pimp My Roman Mosaic.' Starring a dour British specialist with a clipboard and a sense of moral superiority.
I propose we auction off the rights to pay for the restoration. The proceeds could go towards a museum dedicated to our collective failure to maintain the legacy of the ancients. But let us not dwell on decline.
Let us instead celebrate this glorious moment of national one-upmanship. The mosaic's fate is now in the hands of those who understand that true artistry requires a stiff upper lip and a properly brewed cup of tea. The rest of Europe can only watch and learn.
