Sincerity Is The New Black
I am not a Royalist.
I don’t know if you have guessed, but I hate them.
Up the revolution, put them up against the wall, behead the lot. Well, not Harry. I like Harry. Purely based on his looks, obviously. If we met in real life, he’d look down on me with the contempt and distain that the upper echelons of society have for mere, expendable, proles like me.
A love for all things anarchy apparently runs in the family; when my Father looked in to our ancestry, it turns out that way back when, three of us Kibbles were executed for high treason – treason against the state.
I like to think that we were hung from the rafters because we couldn’t keep our mouths shut about those in power. Turns out it was for counterfitting money. Maybe we have always been appalling artists.
Still, high treason is a worthy cause, what ever the case.
These days, with the cult of Wills and simpering Kate and their ickle, bickle babies in full swing, the public seem to love the Royals again. Well, the ones who don’t see them as leeches on society anyway.
William is seen to be like his Mother – a woman who was revered by the public, even though she was just a sloan in pearls, who guess what, thought you were all plebs too. As does William.
But she cuddled children with AIDS, crouched down to talk to toddlers and was married to an immeasurable shit who everyone hated. So, in the eyes of the public, Diana was the ‘good one’.
Now, William is out at disasters. Wheeling his old Nan out with him to Grenfell and hugging a pleb. An immigrant pleb at that! Good old William, so sincere. He promised to do all he could to help find her missing husband. Oh William, don’t be so daft. Don’t promise a grief stricken old lady something that you can’t and won’t come good on.
“We will be back” – Prince William after Grenfell to the survivors.
When Wills and Old Lizard Liz (who didn’t touch the dirty, immigrant peasents) left, they were called out on what they would do.
A man shouted to William, asking how he was going to help. Clearly exasperated that people had died, people were missing, a huge cover up was unfolding and these two Royals turned up, fresh from their luxurious London pads, stomachs full of smoked salmon (at a guess), while their ‘subjects’ were suffering.
So what did Saint William do? He did his best Arnie, “I’ll be back” impression, therefore rendering him the nation’s favourite posh boy.
And to be fair, he did go back. But he didn’t DO anything, Because there is nothing to do. The rungs of society that the Royals come from, the rulers of the World, the holders of the money, the holders of the secrets, they aren’t concerned with us.
“If you called your Nan, she stop it all” – Pulp lyric rip off.
Common people. Us. Call your Nan, Wills. The richest woman in the World. Let her give some of her well hidden cash to re home those people.
We are the life blood of the Royals. We work for them, we work for the state. Nothing more than worker bees. We kick down instead of up. We blame the poor for societies problems, we beat down those below us. We should be kicking UP. We should be fighting the ones who oppress us, but we don’t.
We fight each other, in our little world of work, football, alcohol and sex that was created to keep us all dormant, generation after generation.
Listening to the press, wringing our hands over the World’s ‘problems’ – problems which suit those in power.
But there are the Royals. So sincere. Those poor boys William and Harry, they lost their Mother, don’t you know. We have to feel sorry for them. We have to be proud of the young men they have turned out to be. William even took his kid to school on his own on his first day! What a super chap!
Turn up at a tragedy, look sincere, say the right things, hug the most unwashed person you can find, take the cuddly toy off a child – a toy that will be handed straight over to your close protection officer and binned. But smile, be charming and the public will lap it up.
You never have to do anything.
Just be wheeled out waving at your slaves while you are the biggest landowner in the World. Wave at those who live the life of a worker bee for you, loving you unconditionally and buying China cups with your face on it until the day they die, poor and sick.
Kick upwards. For God’s sake, KICK UPWARDS.