Showing posts with label Pageant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pageant. Show all posts

Monday 4 June 2012

QE2




There are three ideas about the monarchy.  One is the total opposition, based on democratic equality or just spiteful jealousy.  Hard line anti monarchists usually don't think through their opinions and just whine about 'cap doffing,' and 'rich snobs.'  They certainly have a point, and several members of the royal party (yes Andrew I mean you!) could be eliminated without any fuss.  On the other hand there are many monarchists out there. Some with memories of the royal family's attitudes during the war, and the PR was excellent at that time.  During the blitz the queen was asked if the young girls would leave London. "They won't leave without me, and I won't leave without the King, and the King won't leave," came the reply.  For the populace that was what they wished to hear at the time, and that impression remained for years, following on as it did the previous King's resignation for an American gold digger.  Today thousands, mostly women, identify with Diana, another self publicist, and fill their homes with union flags (calling them Union jacks although those are only flown on ships) pictures of royalty, and always at the forefront at street parties and flag waving occasions.  The majority are somewhere in the middle.  Like me they enjoy such pageants, the boats, the crowds having a laugh, the attention seekers, and especially the stories which accompanied the boats yesterday.  We don't support a monarchy and worry about a republic.  A head of state like this queen costs far too much, but a president would have political influence, would probably be a Tony Blair type, and would fail to bring in tourists.  In fact that would have several bad effects all round!  Yesterdays expensive parade was a laugh, except for the drivel offered by the BBC presenters.  "Amazing, fabulous, beautiful, brilliant" they repeated over and over and over, instead of giving something sensible.  My favourite was when some bint came on to discuss the outfits, i had ti turn the sound off then but not before the BBC suit had used the phrase "The queen is like a pearl," at which point I vomited.  Quite what she or Phillip would have said at that point I would not wish to hear.


I find these things hard to take when Union flags are flying.  My inner revulsion at a flag used by England, for England, by a nation that considers the 'United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland,' to be no more than :Greater Englandshire' somewhat repulsive.  I note that at no time did the well trained broadcasters use the phrase 'Queen of England' as so many foreign johnnies do. and complimented them on their fear of a Scots backlash.  My e-mails do make a difference.  I also found the desire of the cheerleaders to encourage the fans to cheer at every opportunity tiring. We know the soggy royalists wanted to let of steam but this was embarrassing.   Not quite as bad as the painters outside Tate Modern, the home of daft art, attempting in the rain to paint the queen as she passed by at 4 mph.  Still it's only a bit of a show, a bit of a laugh.  A time for the kids to have a memory, a time to bring people together, a time to sell Jubilee Mugs and tat. An inoffensive occasion, enlivened by around 80 wet protesters (hundreds the 'Morning Star' claimed which surprised me as I thought the 'Morning Star' died 20 years ago) whining about anti- monarchy, and few noticing.


The UK has a love hate relationship with the monarchy.  The press reflect what matters by surrounding the queen with pictures of Kate and Pippa, this time neither showing tits or bum first, and fussing more about these girls than the occasion.  A great number still want a royal family, the reasons why are many, usually not thought out, and it will take a major mistake or thirty years before any revolution takes place in the UK regarding them.  Of course by then Scotland will be independent, and much less concerned with all this.


It is hard writing early in the morning while stuffing cheese on toast down the gullet.  No wonder this is a mish mash worse than usual!  never mind, I'll get the butler to fix it later. 
 

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