An adherent to The Church of England, an institution allegedly founded upon the notion that a church ruled by the King would somehow be holier than one ruled by the Pope. In actuality, Anglicanism began because King Henry VIII couldn't get a hard-on. The Pope (see: Catholic
)refused to grant Henry VIII a divorce so he could re-marry and try to produce an heir, so Henry VIII just decided to start his own religion (see: penis envy
) and grant himself a fuckin divorce.
Following this, a period of several decades passed whereby Anglicans and Catholics preceded to burn each other on stakes, both taking turns at this ritual depending on which religion the ruling monarch of England favoured. However, because of its mind-boggling idiocy, no historian has been able to properly document this era without dying of a brain hemmorage.
Even more decades passed, and Catholics lost power permanently in England, and were kept cruelly supressed by the Anglican Church, who would not let them go to university or hold positions in government. This probably explains why Alexander Pope's poetry sucks. Also, Guy Fawkes, a rightfully disenfranchised Catholic, attempted to blow up the English parliament, but was arrested while attempting to blow up six billion crates of dynamite shoved into a six by eight foot basement. When brought before the (Anglican) King James I to beg forgiveness, he promptly spit on his face. This should not be confused with V For Vendetta
In a modern context, several characteristics can be ascribed to Anglicans:
1) Extreme spoiledness (i.e. I ran away from home because my parents wanted me to pay an eighth of my tuition)
2) Contant lauding of their self, righteous "progressive values"
3) A false sense of pride because their second cousin-in-law went to Oxford or some fucking thing
4) A contrived, socially detached air that lets you know that they're better than everyone else in the room
5) The kind of conversation skills that are put to shame by most mutes and/or Uzbekistani hookers
6) An elitist disposition because they were forced to read T.S. Eliot in university and think they're fuckin brilliant because of it.
I'm not sure which is more painful, shoving my hand in the fucking blender and turning it to maximum, or having to carry on a forced conversation with an Anglican in an elevator about how she makes "kind of a lot of money".