Why would you drink like a prissy prancing mellifluous child of Dionysus in the vineyards of antiquity

We [the British] drink like this because we can, because it's our birthright, it's our heritage, our history, our myth and legend. Why would you drink like a prissy prancing mellifluous child of Dionysus in the vineyards of antiquity when you could bellow obscene songs in the mead halls of Asgard? We are the chilly, sweaty drunks of the north, of the long nights. We drink in the dark of the flickering shadows, not in the sunny, blue-hued shade of the south. We drink like this because we fucking can.

A.A. Gill, Pour me (2015), 16-17

Like a lot of A.A. Gill's memoir, this doesn't really stand analysis, but it's a great passage.