OK, I realise I’m a little late. The world has moved on from waving soggy
flags in aid of some under qualified, over privileged crone to waving them for
the Olympics...and a bunch of dudes in shorts.
Fair enough.
Let me take this opportunity to admit that I am a staunch
republican and so, those of you who are of a royalist disposition may not want
to continue any further. Not that I am
going to use this post as a way of explaining or justifying my beliefs to
you. That will come later. Much later.
When we’ve got to know each other a little better. Then I will discuss the finer points of my
political beliefs and why I think inbreeding is wrong. However, for now, I am going to content
myself with providing a brief critique of the pantomime that was Jubilee
weekend....
So, a few months ago my manager informed me that we would be
getting Jubilee weekend off work whether
we liked it or not and that I would owe time back. So much for living in a democratic bloody
nation! Not only was I being forced to
take holiday against my will but I would also owe additional time back for the
pleasure. You might well wonder why I
felt so resentful. Well, the simple answer
is I had work related stuff to do. I had
people’s family history to poke around in and books to tidy. I had stuff to do that was wholly unrelated
to a bunch of over privileged inbreeds who I will never meet and, if I’m being
honest, have not even the slightest inclination to meet. How interesting can a bunch of posh morons who’ve
never had to even clean their own boots or hold down a day job actually
be?
Anyway, I digress.
So, once I had established that I had to take that weekend off work and
that there was literally no getting out of it (I mean, calling home “sick”
wouldn’t have done much good) then I had to get thinking about how I would
spend it. Had it been entirely up to me
I would have sat in the living room with the curtains drawn, whilst watching
back to back episodes of “Blackadder” and “Not Going Out” and eating dry
shreddies out of the box. Or maybe I
would have just curled up and slept the weekend away. Whatever my plans would have been they
certainly wouldn’t have involved leaving the house or watching any of the
coverage on TV. I could have lulled
myself into believing that there was absolutely nothing going on. Then I could have returned to work, where I
would justifiably avoid talking to anyone (because one is not allowed to talk
in a reference library) until the royal farce had been forgotten....
As per usual, I wasn’t to get my way. It was suggested (and not by me) that we
should use this as an opportunity to visit family. Usually this would be fine but not when the
streets between us and said families were bespattered by union Jacks and
bunting, making the whole area look something like a BNP rally. I was actually fearing that we might
encounter skinheads.
The weekend seemed to pass without incidence if you don’t
count my boyfriend’s sister shotting champagne-there is a context to that, it
wasn’t just a random act of unprovoked alcoholism-and my mother shrieking like
a banshee on helium-again, there is a context.
In fact, the only bit of the Jubilee panto I was exposed to was the
concert, which my parents had on in the background whilst my dad and boyfriend
were having some nerdy debate (no explanation, just an unprovoked act of
nerdism). The dog was, understandably,
completely underwhelmed and a bit cheesed off by the whole thing. I think she decided that dragging her bed
from one end of the house to the other would be a more fulfilling pursuit than
watching Madness perform “Our House” whilst pratting around on top of
Buckingham Palace. I can’t say that I
disagreed with her. I would rather have
been sitting in the store at work, picking paper mites off a dusty volume than
have to sit and watch that crap. What is
worse is the fact that so much cash was spent on the whole bloody charade. Money that I didn’t actually think we
had. Or at least, money that we have
been repeatedly told we don’t have. Can
we have extra money so that we can provide better services? Sorry folks, there’s a recession. OK, so can we keep the NHS? Sorry folks, there’s a recession. Can we run such and such a scheme to help job
seekers get into work? Sorry folks,
there’s a recession. What about
rehousing the homeless? There’s a bloody
recession, we’re not made of money! OK,
so can we have X amount of pounds to celebrate some crone scrounging off us for
sixty years? Why, what a spiffing
idea. We shall also give the proles an
extra day off work, make them feel as though their miserable little existences
are worth hanging onto for one whole day.
Mwahahahaha.
God save the bloody Queen, she’s cost us enough money!
