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“The society which has abolished every kind of adventure makes its own abolition the only possible adventure.” Paris, May 1968
Sunday, 1 May 2011
A triumph for the middle class.
Say what you like, it really was an outstanding propaganda exercise. In the obvious sense of acting as a huge diversion from the cuts of course, but also I think in more subtle and profound ways. The spectacle of The Royal Wedding helped secure the future of a dynasty and no matter how much we may mock the Saxe-Coburgs as a bunch of none too bright inbreeds they have shown a remarkable ability for moving with the times and adapting to the public mood. This latest episode in what remains our most popular soap is further evidence of the family's adroit survival skills. If that was all there was to it we could perhaps just shrug our shoulders and move on, muttering about the false consciousness of the masses and the like, but I think that the Windsor/Middleton pact is something else. It is the final episode in the Thatcher project. The irrefutable evidence that with hard work, determination, thrift and a dash of selfishness the sky is the limit. The Middle Class, after all those false starts, have finally arrived. If you can just get your daughter into the right school she too could be a princess. Heaven help us.
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This England.
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Of the brief glimpse I had of the Royal Farce, I saw Charlie boy wipe his nose with his fingers and then immediately shake a clergyman's hand, the young pups (one embarrassingly balding, one attempting to swagger like a chimpanzee) with not a comb between them, and a herd of minor royals arriving in mini-buses. Classy occasion, it was not.
It's a toss-up who has more panache; the 'Big Fat Gypsies' or the House of Windsor.
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