Monday, 23 March 2009

Right Royal Revulsion

Now, I thought by now we had all got the message that racism was generally speaking, not good. Only last week though we were informed of the latest bit of playful racism spouted by Charlie and his ginger offspring. Ok, there’s some hereditary action here I suppose, with Prince Philip as a demented father and grandfather who’d make Hitler blush on occasion, so should we be surprised?

The Royal Family has become the last bastion for the committed racist outside of the BNP it seems sometimes. Apparently you can call someone ’Sooty’ then sweep it under the carpet and no one gets sued.

It’s all hypocrisy of course, as Jade Goody, temporary celebrity and self-styled porker was crucified over comments she spewed out which had racist connotations or at least they would have done if they could find timber strong enough. Not that it’s an excuse in the 21st century but the girl clearly had an education that started and ended with the Mr Men books. The Royals have no such excuse, always being educated at the finest establishments the country has to offer and when not feeling each other’s buttocks in dormitories they must’ve learnt something.

It’s all part of the bubble which the family live inside. They never get far without it catching up with them and drawing them back, much like in The Prisoner but they’re all escaped number twos. Prince Harry almost went to war but was pulled back on his baby harness because it was thought that he’d be singled out as a target. Good. He would’ve been the perfect decoy. Send Harry out into the desert with his beacon of ginger hair and draw fire; let the ‘boys’ get on with the random killing. We really missed a trick on that one. The only problem being that we would then have had to endure a minute’s silence every year and attempt to look solemn because someone who wears nazi uniforms for a jape and that we don’t really know died.

They just need to get out more. Charles notoriously talks to his plants and vegetables which no doubt improved relations between him and the Queen mum for a bit but it doesn’t do a lot for personal development.

Their role as ambassadors for this country always bemuses as well, as they can only relate to the inbred castles they scuttle around in, breeding like cockroaches and similar country’s infestations. We should send them out into space on a one-way ticket to greet any visiting aliens. This will but the little green men off visiting for good, which is a preferred scenario as Stephen Hawking believes that any visiting alien race would undoubtedly be unwelcome and be intent on dominating the world with their evil ways, possibly installing lots of staircases or something.

We could also do away with the National Anthem, which has to be one of the dullest songs ever penned. It’s the ditty you normally hear echoing round sports grounds by bald headed creatures that have just dragged their Doc Martins out of the primordial slime. I’d rather we pick any song by Celine Dione at random; it’s that bad. The verses blandly go on forever with only a deep, pained, intake of breath to punctuate each. In singing it, you feel like someone on their deathbed who has been refused the right to euthanasia.

The Queen seems harmless enough, I guess. So, God save the Queen but shoot a thunderbolt through the frontal cortex of the rest.

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