It's best to remember as Hakagate rumbles on that it's a default mechanism of the English to ridicule what they can't have.
Perhaps it's a symptom born of the times. Back in the days of empire, they took what they liked and shot what they didn't. There was no can't have.
Few nations cling to their history quite like England and nothing better illustrates that than the continuation of the Commonwealth Games.
It's almost 70 years since the jewel in the crown - India - were given independence and yet, somehow, this archaic, eclectic gathering of nations who are connected only by having been once coloured red on world maps continue to meet and pay homage to a past everyone seems to forget was often bloody and turbulent.
Who could be sure whether it's history generally or empire specifically that defines the perception the English hold of themselves but colonialism was a big deal. It remains a big deal and rugby, to some extent, is a reminder of a different age - a global institution that still has the Union Jack stamped all over it.
To get to the nub of why this is such a big deal for the English it's important to define what colonialism was really all about. The history books say the establishment of trade routes, the accumulation of commodities and the holding of strategic military locations.
Partly. But was it really more about a little country feeling it was entitled to have a bigger influence?
The English of the late industrial age would have seen first hand how the Vikings, the Romans and the Normans were self-starters, motivated invaders who set their own agenda.
Hell, even the Scots, through Bonnie Prince Charlie and his Jacobites, had a decent crack at taking what wasn't quite theirs and perhaps after hundreds of years of passively standing by, the English felt their time had come. Why not them? Why couldn't they be the aggressor and take?
This may seem a long way off topic in regard to the World Cup, but it is at the heart of the issues that prevail today.
The English turned out to be good at empire building and collected not only trophy nations to rule but also significant historic landmark occasions that have helped endorse, hundreds of years later, a belief within England that it remains the centre of the universe.
They have lost their ability to take what they want but not their belief that it is their right to do so.
But what is it that the English want in respect to the haka? What about it sparks within them an obvious feeling of inferiority?
It's the sense of identity that comes with it and the ability to have one powerful, unified source of expression that defines both the All Blacks and New Zealanders.
Before every test, the All Blacks are afforded the better part of two minutes to make an emotional connection with the jersey they are wearing. What exactly the haka says about the All Blacks is open to interpretation but the point is that every player and every New Zealander will connect their heart to their brain during it and complete the paradigm.
England, in comparison, continue to grasp at a cultural void. They have no such certainty around who they are and can't quite make sense of the near-schizophrenic cultural differences created by the class system.
Are they eggs, chips and beans and eight pints of lager in the Costa Brava, or tea and cucumber sandwiches on the front lawn of the Berkshire country retreat?
Some of the press have been trying to redefine English rugby as a game for the people, claim that the egregious days of the game being run by gin-soaked old boys are over.
Yet one paper ran a detailed graphic of where England's 31-man squad were schooled. Or rather, the graphic was devoted to the 21 whose education was paid for, leaving the reader to assume that the other 10 who had been to their local comprehensive probably wouldn't come to much and weren't worth bothering about.
The picture has been equally confused in the coverage of the Labour Party's new leader. The radically-left Jeremy Corbyn has been portrayed as a Vladimir Putin puppet, a red devil who will create a socialist state if elected.
The broadsheets have always had a right-wing slant but the vitriol for Corbyn appears to be more intense than it needs to be all because he enjoyed a comfortable and affluent upbringing but hasn't been politically steered by it.
Culturally, England has no idea what it is so is in this vacuum that their sense of entitlement finds a way to thrive.
Ali Williams, who is the inadvertent catalyst for all this haka-related nonsense, said England hold a sense of being the natural custodians of the game. It's that which irks the rest of the world, particularly the Celts.
Williams will say himself he's got a track record for being a pork chop. Sometimes his mouth has been in fifth gear while his brain sleeps.
But on this occasion he was stitched up like the proverbial kipper. What he actually said and what he was reported as saying varied along the same lines as the pictures that accompany the menus at fast-food places compared with the food that comes out of the kitchen.
There is a semblance of commonality between both versions but the overwhelming feeling is of having been double-crossed along the way.
His original point, as opposed to what came out through Google translation carries the stinging jolt of truth.
This World Cup is going to be colossal and memorable for all the right reasons. That's what excites yet the organisers are selling this notion of the game being back where it all started.
That confirms and enhances the preconceptions that most rugby followers hold about England and matters are compounded by the fact eight games are being played in Cardiff and yet England are the sole hosts.
Has their sense of entitlement allowed them to believe that Wales is now part of England?
Matt Dawson's Hakarena was inspired by his misguided conviction that he was entitled to mock a cultural ritual that is deeply significant to the people of New Zealand. The matter should really be left there - the conclusion reached that he's a moron whose expensive education may have had gaping holes in it.
There's nothing an over-privileged, under-talented showoff dislikes more than being ignored, which is exactly the reaction New Zealand should have collectively agreed.
New Zealanders can't expect the rest of the world to adhere to unwritten protocols around what can and can't done in regard to the haka.
Monkeys will see and monkeys will do so it will be re-enacted around the world and probably the worst offenders in this respect are offshore Kiwis.
If offence is going to be taken at Dawson, then why not with the legions of young who seem to think it's a rite of passage to wash up in Shepherd's Bush, have a skin-full, then whip the shirt off and suddenly connect with their nation's roots for the first time in their lives.
No doubt their intentions are good, but it seems the poorly coordinated and little understood efforts of drunk New Zealanders in London are a greater cultural affront to Maoridom than anything a former English rugby player desperate to ignite a failing media career can conjure up.
The insincerity and hypocrisy of the ex-pat haka performers is highlighted when they return home, cashed up and determined to settle somewhere where their little Jack and Georgia can be guaranteed to go to school and not encounter a brown face.
In what was an astonishing week for brewing storms in tea cups, the only winners were the All Blacks. The world wanted to goad them into saying they were angry, incensed by the Hakarena and all the other debate that came with it.
But through it all with a giant smile on his face sat giant All Blacks prop Charlie Faumuina. "I haven't seen it but I'm not too fussed about what they are doing," he said when asked for his thoughts on the Hakarena.
The voice of sanity that no one heard.