Monday, June 17, 2013

Revisitation Rights

I'm sorry but I'm going to have to revisit a topic about which I previously posted a while back.

I was listening to the radio this morning  and I was informed that Prince Philip had been released from hospital in England (the British don't say "the" hospital, they just say "hospital".)  I was also informed that Nelson Mandela remains in hospital in South Africa.

Let's pause for a moment to ponder those two facts.

Two old men in and out of sick bay.

One is a world hero responsible for a cultural shift that liberated an entire country from the shackles of institutionalized racist discrimination and terror and will be remembered throughout history for his struggle and achievement.

The other has done nothing but follow his wife around wearing too many medals and will be forgotten soon after his death.

I understand the British need to celebrate their monarchs.  They are saluting their "noble" past and the wonderful things they have done.

Colonialism, occupation, death, destruction, terror, torture and oppression.  Oh and the Mini Cooper and Spotted Dick, whatever that is...

I know, they survived the Second World War and Churchill was their hero.  As is David Beckham, The Beatles, The Spice Girls and James Bond.

But the fact that these people do nothing while the rest of the "real" world and most of the English, I might add (I did add, actually...), work their asses off for a fraction of the Royal allowance, to me, is a sin.  A SIN I tell ya!

The very week that the inspiring Mother Theresa died, the vacuous Princess Diana died.

We read a line, or maybe two, about the probable saint and we are STILL talking about "Di..."

"Never say Di" is not in our lexicon, apparently.

But now we talk about her in the context of discussions about her sons and, soon to be, grandchild.

Granted, the younger son, what's-his-name, seems like a regular guy, a selfless soldier and a party animal...but all of the rest of them seem to be lazy freeloaders.

And Charles. 

Poor Charles.  With his requited love and the elusive throne.

His mother will probably never die.  She is probably taking pills, paid for by the Exchequer, that will give her eternal life.

Charles will wait until hell freezes over, or until the Colonies revert to the rule of the Crown, whichever comes first, before he assumes the "big seat..."

The Royal Family irritates the crap out of me.

But I am fully aware of the fact that I am merely jealous of their wealth and lifestyle.  I admit that.  Who isn't...really...if you tell the truth.

And I, personally, think I'd look great wearing a tiara.  My mother always said that I had a "hat face."

And the medals.  Bring 'em on...!  All of 'em.  Especially the OBE. 

I wan an OBE.  OBE wan Kev OBE!! (Star Wars reference...get it?  No?  Lame joke...?  Ok...you're right...)

If I had one then I'd almost be a Beatle.  John, Paul, George, Ringo, Pete, Billy and Kevin. 

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!

No comments:

Post a Comment