I tried my best to ignore the “Royal Wedding”, but unless you happen to be a member of one of those lost tribes of the Amazon jungle, the chances of getting through yesterday without being subjected to at least some of the nauseating hype were pretty slim. So if you’re feeling a little irked by being forced in this way to participate in the proceedings, you may be either cheered or further distressed to know that the notion that yesterday’s extreme pomp, circumstance and massive monetary waste were in any way ‘Royal’ is absolute bollocks, as Craig Murray pointed out:
“The monarchy makes no sense even on its own logic. It is impossible that the putative William V is the most entitled direct descendant of William the Conqueror (who bumped off the one and only actually English King of all England, Harrold Godwinson). Just to mention a single example of scores, it appears that Edward IV’s father, Richard of York, was at no time in the same country as his mother during the possible conception period. And yes, the current lineage’s claim to succession would fall on that point.
Even if you accept that for the Tudors to kill off the Yorkists was a reasonable grounds of entitlement, or for the Stuarts to be excluded on grounds of religion is not a problem, the many infidelities over the centuries make the mystic idea of a bloodline absolute bollocks”
The sad truth is that yesterday’s spectacle was nothing more than a modern day version of bread and circuses, a gross distraction from the degenerate state of our society and a chance for all the ‘authoritarian followers’ in England and around the world in the Imperial “Commonwealth” to get together and prove to the rest of us that we’re still living in the social and evolutionary dark ages. That so many English people willingly (indeed, joyfully) played the part of ignorant peasants to the ‘divinely ordained’ yet systemically corrupt British royalty and aristocracy was actually frightening to me.
In social, political and personal psychology such modern-day peasants are known as ‘Right Wing Authoritarian followers’, people who have a high degree of submissiveness to authorities that are perceived to be legitimate. Note that it is only authorities that are perceived to be legitimate, they need not be truly just, and history shows that, almost invariably, such authorities are neither. Another endearing trait of these Right Wing Authoritarian types is a general aggressiveness directed against deviants, out-groups, and other people that are perceived to be targets according to the established authorities. Basically we are talking about people who have little to no ability to think for themselves on macro-social issues and who rely almost entirely on authority figures for their understanding of social mores. If a truly benevolent leader were to hold power, things would work out well, but the effects of such a large percentage of authoritarian followers (globally we’re talking 50%) in a world dominated by Pathocracies are negative to put it mildly. Think Nazi Germany, the British Empire and the USA post 9/11, to name but three examples. The pages of history are replete with others.
Any chance that I, personally, had of remaining unmoved by the farcical ‘Royal’ proceedings was ruined when I read that big Willie would wear the uniform of the ‘Irish Guards’ (known as ‘Micks’ – a derogatory English term for the Irish). Many inane media pundits applauded this choice of attire as a ‘hat tip’ to the Irish people in advance of Lizzie the second’s visit to Ireland next month. But only an ass, entirely ignorant of history, could come to such a conclusion. For the military of one sovereign nation to have a regiment that employs the name of another sovereign nation or people is strange enough, but when we consider the history of England and Ireland and the former’s long-term occupation and genocidal involvement in the affairs of the latter, Willy’s choice of the ‘Irish Guards’ uniform simply confirms that imperialism, racism and sectarianism continue to form the life-blood that nourishes the thinking and attitudes of those unfortunate enough to number themselves amongst the fetid British establishment.
As for Lizzie giving William the title of Baron Carrickfergus as a wedding gift; what ‘Royal wedding’ could be complete without a little sharing out of imperial plunder.