In the year of Our Lord 871, a man named Alfred was declared King of Wessex. He was the first real Monarch of Britain as we now know it. He is also the only King to have been afforded the epitaph ‘The Great’. Alfred The Great.
And Alfred was quite good. There is a reason why, after all, that the University of Winchester was once called King Alfred’s College! LoL!
He fought Vikings from these shores and looked good in a Shiny Hat. He also structured the Military and Legal Systems for the first time.
You see in the year 871 the Monarchy meant something. And it did for at least the next Millennia. People loved it. Flag –waving and chest-thumping ‘let’s all die in a foreign land and give all of our money to/in the name of a man who wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire!’ was as popular as believing the world is flat, the Plague, fearing God and reveling in the early days of Bruce Forsythe’s fledgling Entertainment career.
So it seems strange that now, when the Monarchy is wholly redundant and useless, that it perhaps has more meaning than ever. Apparently Mrs Windsor is representative of the British Person.
And perhaps she is. She has a racist immigrant Husband, a twice-married Son who talks to Trees, and Grandchildren with Degrees but no Job. She truly does represent Broken Britain.
She’s also a Scrounger. Yeah. Mrs Windsor is very hard up. Crown Jewels don’t pay for themselves you know. So we the Taxpayers have to lend her a few bob every year. We treated her to some Security last year (because Old People are ever so vulnerable) at a cost of £3 Billion.
But what has Mrs Windsor ever done for you? It’s not like she ever released that one great album. And she probably hasn’t got a novel in her either.
Yet the Monarchy is part of the British psyche isn’t she? Like John Barrowman or Simon Cowell.
And when your great-grandad was a little nipper in World War II, his house being bombed and the streets turned to dust – the tears and fear rising in his eyes and soul, the sight of The Monarchy, gracefully walking through the Tube Station as the Bombs fell. Well that was the greatest moment of your great-granddad’s life wasn’t it? That’s surely what won the War.
A War that was fought more or less for freedom and democracy. Values completely at odds with the elitist and unelected, archaic and disgusting Monarchy.
Political Comedian Mark Steel tells a Gem about standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, gazing out at the beautifully cultural Parisian Evening, and feeling that it would be a lot better if they had a Monarch.
And that really sums up the pointlessness of The British Monarchy. It’s basically just an Aesthetic. It’s subjective, but not a neccessity.
The Queen is a Lava Lamp. And I just happen to think Lava Lamps are Cunts.
nb. I’m referring to The Queen as a concept, not Mrs Windsor as a person…
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