Our anti-monarchical flag has been flying
defiantly throughout the day and I have refused to look at any scenes of the
lanky Bourbon pretending that his new ‘position’ is anything other than a
crushing denial of the democratic pretentions of a politically bankrupt
nation. To say nothing of the obscene
amount of money spent on this ridiculous sham at a time of national crisis.
Of
course the expulsion of Spain from the World Cup has been (and indeed, is) of
more significance than a member of the moneyed classes dressing up in strange
clothes and laughing at the peasants in the ruling party of PP fawning on his
accession.
I
do recognize that the status of the Germanic dwarf in the UK would probably be
confirmed if her position was ever opened to real public discussion, and I have
to admit that (little thanks to her) there is much more transparency about the
ludicrous costs of the so-called royal family than there is in Spain, where the
information made available to the public is laughable. Still, Spain did have an opportunity to take
the discussion to another level and they bottled out.
Perhaps when the
GD finally has the good grace to shuffle of this moral coil and the public are
faced with the awful reality of her appalling son ascending the throne they
might actually think about the way in which they are governed for once, and
finally decide that the Royal House of Wettin (which is what the laughable
House of Windsor should truly be known as) is finally consigned to history
where it so richly deserves to languish.
It
is true that the governing (sic!) PP party are the ultimate practitioners of
the bread-and-circuses approach to deflecting serious discussion about anything
of importance. What is the world cup but
the ultimate mask for the rich, powerful and unscrupulous to do what they do
best and screw the rest of us!
This
bile could go on spilling for pages, but I should try and regulate my
rants. If only for the benefit of my
health!
I
am much looking forward to our visit to the UK and especially to the meal on
the Saturday night that looks as though it is going to be attended by a goodly
group of friends.
My
revised chapbook of poems from the OU course that I have just taken has taken a
step nearer to reality as, after extensive excavations in the storage area
under the eves, I have rediscovered the long-armed stapler - without which the
production of semi-professional booklets is impossible. Indeed the number of pages in the booklet
means that its realization is at the outer limits of the technology that I have
at my disposal. However publication of
some sort is immanent.
I
have now brought the flag inside, it is after sunset after all, and the point
has been made – and I am not at all convinced by the case for Catalan independence
- and anyway, I would have been much
happier with a Spanish Republican flag.
Which I am determined to buy and use at a later date.
Tomorrow
the viewing of a flat. There is no way
that I can afford to buy one, but it is interesting to see what is on
offer. And I can’t wait for the
laughable offers of finance that they might offer to a person of my age!
Another
experience to look forward to. And
something to write about of course.
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