This is a political Black Sunday for the Condems. The real bug-eyed, malformed nocturnal tory reptiles surface through the PR scum on the swamp.
Ian Duncan Smith does a Tebbit, and orders the ethnic cleansing of the unemployed from their communities, and in the process releasing a tide of internal immigration of Northrons to swamp leafy, industrial Roehampton and St Albans. Exactly what's needed to keep the southern workforce on their toes. Where else is he going to get enough aliens to keep people fighting amongst themselves? Without this competition for jobs and homes and services, they might begin to know their own value, and with it their strength, and that would be fatal to Cameron's doctrine of People Power.
Within an hour of Smith, Nigel Lawson admits Tories lied to the electorate on NHS 'Ring-Fencing'. The NHS is to be slashed like everything else. And in an ultra-Stalinist proposal which will see more riots than the SPG, SUS Law, Miners' Strike and the Polltax combined, Tory Ferret-in-Chief, Michael Gove also wants to evict the single and childless from council housing to make room for families.
And all on the day on which England were eliminated from/gloriously triumphed in the World Cup.
Prince Harry goes to a fancy dress party in Nazi uniform. Huge media fuss. A nation in crisis.
Ut-nay ot-nay oo-tay ight-bray, if you know what I mean. The biggest break the British people could therefore give to the Royal Family in general would be to set them free.
Ever since September 1st 1997 it's been obvious that the British Royal Family are much much too attractive and lucrative to the mass media. Why the Brits? Why not the Dutch or Danish or the other cyclo-stocracies? The papparazi don't chase them around the quaint cobbled streets and open air cafes of the continent. Why? What's the difference?
The only one I can think of is the fact that for some bizarre reason, we still allow our royals real political power. Or seem to. Take that perception away, plus the massive unearned privileges, reduce them to the rank of human beings and you'd be amazed how soon they would lose their fascination.
They would gain a whole new perspective on the world, and be able to function as thinking human beings instead of being forced to live in a quasi-moralistic, phoney-historical puppet show. They are not people, merely a cast. And they're not even very good at this theatrical role, if this appalling wardobe choice is anything to go by.
If there's one thing you expect from an efficient aristocracy, it's taste. The innate ability not to offend anyone. They're meant to be the masters. So much for another myth. Remember, we only know about this at all because of the market value of photographs of the Ginge Regent swanking about in jackboots. His Toffo-buddies would never have rushed to Canary Wharf without a decent bit of bunce at the end of it.
It's time the Windsors were Tebbitted: let them Get on Their Bikes. They'll be much happier, and useful.
