It spoils what would otherwise be a lovely view of the aforementioned landmass for the Island of Ireland, and further irks the populace of the Emerald Isle via its maintenance of an odious occupation of the Northeastern tip of said island.
Of course, said occupation has been enormously profitable for the inhabitants of said isle, who reap ongoing gains in soppy films and roaringly drinking green-tinged urine on a day devoted to a mythical fellow who is said to have driven all Squamates from the island. He failed, of course, which has not prevented any number of beer-sodden bog-trotters from painting their faces (and arses) green, descending on every ville in North America and drinking themselves unconscious. This is a putative reason as to why the conquest of Ireland was so easily accomplished.
The stiff upper lips of Britain's inhabitants appear to have caused them to suffer a collective speech impediment, which prevents them from properly speaking the language erroneously named after another title bestowed upon this unusual bump in the sea floor.