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home / Extramarital Affairs News / archive / 12th nov / Royalty stumbles on, up to its plus-fours in tacky innuendo

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Royalty stumbles on, up to its plus-fours in tacky innuendo

The argument goes something like this: Okay, he's a bit of a loose cannon, and she only really relates to horses and dogs. Fair dos – the old mum was a lush with a sumptuous lifestyle and a fabulous overdraft, and the late sister had been around the block more than once. True, the boy-children turned out a bit dodgy, especially the one with the penchant for bimbos, and the girl didn't manage to get herself born first.
As for the kids' first choice life partners . . . let's not go there. But then, chorus the unshakeable monarchists: "If we didn't have a royal family, we'd surely have something much worse." The "much worse" would then be named, according to the times and political inclination, as, say, Margaret Thatcher or Neil Kinnock.
Today, as one of the royal households finds itself once more up to the business end of its plus-fours in tacky innuendo, you do have to ask yourself exactly how we could possibly find a family which could manage the same degree of dysfunctionality.
So let's, for just a moment or two, turn that whole proposition on its head and ask, who could be worse than the Windsors? Let's transplant the episodes of the past two decades or so on to some of the people who would allegedly be so much more demeaning a symbol of a modern constitutional democracy if we went down the route of a president operating as a figure-head, rather than a political player.
It's not easy to imagine a Kinnock or a Blair, or, for that matter, a Clarke or a Howe, requiring a staff of 85 to keep them functioning daily as a fully-clothed adult with their teeth brushed. You cannot, somehow, envisage Cherie or Glenys or Norma having their toes sucked pool-side with the latest lover while the weans gambolled cheerfully nearby.
In fact, if you were a mother from the wrong side of the tracks, you might well imagine, in similar circumstances, someone coming up with a parenting order to take the kids into care until you were satisfied they were not being exposed to moral danger or lack of due care and attention. It is difficult to envisage Tony or Gordon running an extra-marital affair, or fantasising down the phone about an alternative life as a tampon. Both denizens of Downing Street, you suspect, would not require butler service to provide a sample when inconvenienced by the temporary loss of a functioning upper limb. John Major may have had his well publicised fling with Edwina – to each their own – but if half of what is speculated about the Queen's consort in his heyday is true, (or a quarter of what is alleged about her second son), then the former PM isn't at the races in the randy stakes. And if we want positive precedents for going down the presidential route, the Irish Republic has turned out a respectable line in recent times; the work rate without the wacky and expensive appendages.
The next argument routinely advanced for the status quo is that the current monarch is a national treasure, whose worth and commitment were spontaneously celebrated at the milestone of her golden jubilee. Few would be curmudgeonly enough to deny that she made many personal sacrifices to fulfil the destiny placed on her at birth. However, the sheer scale of the wealth and privilege attached to the post and the distance the latter places between her life and anything resembling reality, should not be a tradition continued into a new century.
If you believe that it is untenable to have hereditary peers in a second parliamentary chamber in a modern democracy, then by what logic do you defend the divine right of kings and queens to have their first-born offspring rule in perpetuity? Whether or not you think a monarchy desirable, you cannot defend one which requires several palaces and its own train in order to undertake what is essentially a part-time post. Over the year, the down-time enjoyed by the bulk of this family is nothing short of remarkable.
In the case of the most senior royals, you may argue that we should not expect more from an elderly couple. I agree. They should retire gracefully and enjoy their rural leisure. The question is, what next? Speculation about ditching Charles and wheeling in the glamorous grandson entirely misses the point. This family is not suffering from a recent bout of bad luck – go back along the dynasty and it's shot through with thoroughly disreputable behaviour, mostly unleavened by any modest intellectual capacity.
They are very rich, they are mostly dim, they have more skeletons in the closet than the V & A, and they are serially subsidised by a populace which can't seem to shake off is knee-jerk subservience. The other night, the latest slice of televised royal history gave us a portrait of the Queen's uncle, the Duke of Kent, as a drug-abusing, bisexual adulterer with alcohol dependency on the side. The other uncle famously chucked the throne for an American divorcee and thought that Hitler chap the coming man. A generation before, royal mistresses and illicit progeny seemed almost de rigueur. Deference is a dubious virtue at the best of times, but it is entirely misplaced when people who work hard and honestly to raise families decently feel obliged to doff their caps in the presence of badly dented coronets. Again, transpose this
family's moral template on to your own. Would you feel the slightest smidgin of respect for relations who had quite as many accidents with their good name? No wonder Brookside went out of business – the scriptwriters must have felt constantly outflanked by the real-life capers of the first family.
Frankly, I don't much care who did what to whom in St James Palace. I care very much that Clarence House was the latest pied-à-terre to be given a multi-million pound makeover principally at the expense of the public purse. That's your purse, and mine. I mind that people being paid to be global ambassadors are now little more than scandal-fodder for the more prurient foreign publications. What exactly does this haphazard collection of psychologically-flawed, immensely privileged products of a feudal mind-set have to get up to before we find the pride and the guts to remember that our betters should be just that; people whose conduct commands instinctive respect. Every fresh debacle brings new predictions that "this will finish the monarchy". It never does somehow. So long as British citizens feel comfortable to be cast as subjects, the monarchy may stumble on. Conversely, if we ever acknowledge that "the rank is but the guinea stamp", we may be on the way to growing up into a respected republic.
If young William is as pleasant as generally reported, he'll be well out of it all.
The argument goes something like this: Okay, he's a bit of a loose cannon, and she only really relates to horses and dogs. Fair dos – the old mum was a lush with a sumptuous lifestyle and a fabulous overdraft, and the late sister had been around the block more than once. True, the boy-children turned out a bit dodgy, especially the one with the penchant for bimbos, and the girl didn't manage to get herself born first.
As for the kids' first choice life partners . . . let's not go there. But then, chorus the unshakeable monarchists: "If we didn't have a royal family, we'd surely have something much worse." The "much worse" would then be named, according to the times and political inclination, as, say, Margaret Thatcher or Neil Kinnock.
Today, as one of the royal households finds itself once more up to the business end of its plus-fours in tacky innuendo, you do have to ask yourself exactly how we could possibly find a family which could manage the same degree of dysfunctionality.
So let's, for just a moment or two, turn that whole proposition on its head and ask, who could be worse than the Windsors? Let's transplant the episodes of the past two decades or so on to some of the people who would allegedly be so much more demeaning a symbol of a modern constitutional democracy if we went down the route of a president operating as a figure-head, rather than a political player.
It's not easy to imagine a Kinnock or a Blair, or, for that matter, a Clarke or a Howe, requiring a staff of 85 to keep them functioning daily as a fully-clothed adult with their teeth brushed. You cannot, somehow, envisage Cherie or Glenys or Norma having their toes sucked pool-side with the latest lover while the weans gambolled cheerfully nearby.
In fact, if you were a mother from the wrong side of the tracks, you might well imagine, in similar circumstances, someone coming up with a parenting order to take the kids into care until you were satisfied they were not being exposed to moral danger or lack of due care and attention. It is difficult to envisage Tony or Gordon running an extra-marital affair, or fantasising down the phone about an alternative life as a tampon. Both denizens of Downing Street, you suspect, would not require butler service to provide a sample when inconvenienced by the temporary loss of a functioning upper limb. John Major may have had his well publicised fling with Edwina – to each their own – but if half of what is speculated about the Queen's consort in his heyday is true, (or a quarter of what is alleged about her second son), then the former PM isn't at the races in the randy stakes. And if we want positive precedents for going down the presidential route, the Irish Republic has turned out a respectable line in recent times; the work rate without the wacky and expensive appendages.
The next argument routinely advanced for the status quo is that the current monarch is a national treasure, whose worth and commitment were spontaneously celebrated at the milestone of her golden jubilee. Few would be curmudgeonly enough to deny that she made many personal sacrifices to fulfil the destiny placed on her at birth. However, the sheer scale of the wealth and privilege attached to the post and the distance the latter places between her life and anything resembling reality, should not be a tradition continued into a new century.
If you believe that it is untenable to have hereditary peers in a second parliamentary chamber in a modern democracy, then by what logic do you defend the divine right of kings and queens to have their first-born offspring rule in perpetuity? Whether or not you think a monarchy desirable, you cannot defend one which requires several palaces and its own train in order to undertake what is essentially a part-time post. Over the year, the down-time enjoyed by the bulk of this family is nothing short of remarkable.
In the case of the most senior royals, you may argue that we should not expect more from an elderly couple. I agree. They should retire gracefully and enjoy their rural leisure. The question is, what next? Speculation about ditching Charles and wheeling in the glamorous grandson entirely misses the point. This family is not suffering from a recent bout of bad luck – go back along the dynasty and it's shot through with thoroughly disreputable behaviour, mostly unleavened by any modest intellectual capacity.
They are very rich, they are mostly dim, they have more skeletons in the closet than the V & A, and they are serially subsidised by a populace which can't seem to shake off is knee-jerk subservience. The other night, the latest slice of televised royal history gave us a portrait of the Queen's uncle, the Duke of Kent, as a drug-abusing, bisexual adulterer with alcohol dependency on the side. The other uncle famously chucked the throne for an American divorcee and thought that Hitler chap the coming man. A generation before, royal mistresses and illicit progeny seemed almost de rigueur. Deference is a dubious virtue at the best of times, but it is entirely misplaced when people who work hard and honestly to raise families decently feel obliged to doff their caps in the presence of badly dented coronets. Again, transpose this
family's moral template on to your own. Would you feel the slightest smidgin of respect for relations who had quite as many accidents with their good name? No wonder Brookside went out of business – the scriptwriters must have felt constantly outflanked by the real-life capers of the first family.
Frankly, I don't much care who did what to whom in St James Palace. I care very much that Clarence House was the latest pied-à-terre to be given a multi-million pound makeover principally at the expense of the public purse. That's your purse, and mine. I mind that people being paid to be global ambassadors are now little more than scandal-fodder for the more prurient foreign publications. What exactly does this haphazard collection of psychologically-flawed, immensely privileged products of a feudal mind-set have to get up to before we find the pride and the guts to remember that our betters should be just that; people whose conduct commands instinctive respect. Every fresh debacle brings new predictions that "this will finish the monarchy". It never does somehow. So long as British citizens feel comfortable to be cast as subjects, the monarchy may stumble on. Conversely, if we ever acknowledge that "the rank is but the guinea stamp", we may be on the way to growing up into a respected republic.
If young William is as pleasant as generally reported, he'll be well out of it all.

Full credit for this news article goes to: The Herald