I had one of those vision's earlier today, not quite 'apocalypse now', but not too dissimilar.
Standing on the elevated foreshore, in the distance was what looked like a lighthouse, half submerged, it was actually 'Big Ben'.
My head turned slightly seaward, lo & behold, before my eyes, emerging from Oceanus Germanicus in the mist, a sailing vessel, the vessel 'Britannia', heading for Londinium, taking on water after a collision with the rocks of Terre Europia.
The whole crew could be observed swimming away from the vessel with all the speed that they could muster.
The 'captain', apparently a 'female' wearing an unfamiliar toga that is divided from the waste down to accommodate each leg separately, was at the helm, unaware that as she was steering the 'Britannia' towards rocks more treacherous than her reputation, the crew (MP's) were long out of earshot & sight
.
One could, if foolish enough to remain in earshot, hear Captain 'MAY' shouting aloud, crying out, "Man the pumps, Britannia expects every man to do his duty".
The cry was so loud that all the crew could hear that hellish sound of her voice & with no exception in true Anglo Saxon refrain, they, to a man, shouted back, "F*ck OFF" , looked down to where they hoped that Neptune would welcome them & headed into the deep, never to be seen again.
The 'captain', true to tradition, saved herself, only to go down with her ship alone on board what was once affectionately known as the 'Magnus Britannia', steering her back onto the rocks, where the Barbarians of Germania & Rome await the reward from the salvage, AKA vassalage.
Thereafter, Britannia ruled the waves from below, while the Barbarian tribe of Germania & Gaulle looked down at the wreck of the Britannia, shrugged their shoulders & said, "What the F*ck was that all about"?