And so, in the UK, the last bank holiday weekend of the first half of the year starts, and this year we get an extra day, in celebration of the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee.
There’s only one song to post to mark such a momentous occasion:
I say “there’s only one song”, but of course, I have some others (and count yourself lucky that I couldn’t think of an hour’s worth or this post would be appearing as a mix tomorrow night).
Let’s start with that image up top, HRH beamed onto Stonehenge. What is the fecking point of that? What are we trying to say? That she’s been on the throne so long she was around when those stones were put in place? That she was created by druids? That she looks particularly fine at the summer solstice? That she has lots of nice hats?
Regular readers will not be surprised to learn that, screaming lefty/woke snowflake (delete as applicable) that I am, I’m not exactly the biggest fan of the Royal family. Give me The Royle Family any day (Everton fans, I do not mean Joe Royle, although I’m sure they’re lovely).
Even if I was, I think I’d find it in rather poor taste that, as we go into a cost of living crisis, we’re – to use a phrase coined by our (at the time of writing) #CrimeMinister – “spaffing” millions of pounds up the wall to put on events up and down the country which even she
can’t be bothered to turn up to is too old and unstable on her feet to attend. Of course, chuck in a few horses and Alan Titchmarsh and she’s up and out of bed faster than if somebody had wafted some gin in front of her sister.
Still, I suppose with street parties being thrown up and down the country, perhaps the pressure on food banks might be temporarily relieved…
“It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean
Try shaking a box in front of the Queen
‘Cause her purse is fat and bursting at the seams
It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean.”
There is, of course, a Platinum Party At The Palace, and here’s who’s performing:
I suspect that HRH knows even fewer of those names than I do.
And frankly, with the exception of Elton (provided he’s not in Pub Singer mode) and Nile Rogers, I don’t think there’s anyone there that I’d change channels to watch either. (In case you were thinking of challenging me on this, I’ve seen Diana Ross before, and I’m not overly keen on repeating that…)
The Venn diagram, if I were to compose one, of Conservative voters/supporters of the #CrimeMinister, would doubtless show a large overlap where those that think he is doing a good job intersect with those who bloody love The Queen. Which is odd when you think back a few months and recall that he has had to apologise twice to Her Madge: firstly, for the ruddy great parties that were held in Downing Street on the eve of Prince Philip’s funeral, when he said: ““I deeply and bitterly regret that that happened…I can only renew my apologies both to Her Majesty and to the country for misjudgements that were made, and for which I take full responsibility.”
“Renew” is an interesting word there, because of course this was not the first time that he had to apologise to HRH; back in 2019 he apparently rang the Queen to personally apologise for embarrassing her after the Supreme Court ruled his prorogation of Parliament was unlawful.
He didn’t apologise for doing it, mind, oh no. He apologised for any embarrassment him doing it caused her.
What I’m saying is this: if you still support our #CrimeMinister and are celebrating the Platinum Jubilee, then congratulations. In psychology, this holding of two opposing ideas in your mind at the same time is known as cognitive dissonance. But to quote F. Scott Fitzgerald: “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise.”
Truly, you have “first-rate intelligence”, unfettered by logic or reason. Well done you.
So when over the weekend I will doubtless see footage of people waving Union Jack flags, dressed in Union Jack apparel and scoffing some sausage rolls at a street party as they cheer HRH, this song will be playing in my head:
“The people who grinned themselves to death
Smiled so much they failed to take a breath
And even when their kids were starving
They all thought The Queen was charming.”
Earlier, I touched on the cost of these celebrations, and there is another point which you should consider here: it was only a matter of a few months ago that HRH reputedly paid £2 million ($2.7 million) so that Virginia Giuffre would drop her civil sexual assault case against non-sweaty poster boy for Pizza Express (Woking branch) Prince Andrew. Which, of course – same as Michael Jackson did with all those families claiming he was a a paedophile – one would do if he was totally innocent of all charges, as claimed…
“I’d like to drop my trousers to The Queen
Every sensible child will know what this means
The poor and the needy are selfish and greedy on her terms.”
One song to go, and it’s an obvious one that I doubt I will be alone in posting today:
But with all that said, I’ll gladly take the extra day off work. In other words: Happy Platty Joobs, Ma’am.