And so it begins. The 60th anniversary of the Queen's accession to the throne draws ever nearer and with it the inevitable hysteria and servile behaviour reserved especially for royal events. 6 February will be a Monday. It will also be the day of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. I will celebrate it for the former.
Big-eared adulterer Andrew Marr has recorded a documentary to mark the event in which he talks to a cavalcade of fawning fops about their admiration for Liz. In an article in the Radio Times, Marr remarks "Prince Harry reflects on her ability to turn up." It is well-known that throughout the evolutionary timeline turning up has been paramount to our existence. Whenever the winds of change have swept through the broad sunlit uplands of human life it was those who had the decency to turn up that prospered.
No "I'm running a bit late" or "something has come up", it was those who were able to say I'll be there at this time and then, when that time came about, they moved from the place they were to the place that they said they would be. If you can do it by inheriting an outdated and privileged position of outrageous wealth simply on the grounds that you were a sperm in the nut sack of a member of a family that allows you servants to transport you and wait on your every beck and call, then you've cracked it as a monarch.
I turned up the other day only to find that I had gotten there an hour late. This renders me useless and I would hope, for the sake of human kind, that I am diluted from the gene pool. I am worthless and don't deserve to breathe the same oxygen as those who overcome everything that is put in front of them, usually by a footman, so realising the heady heights of punctuality.
In order to ensure I do not hold back the human race anymore I have decided to have a vasectomy. It would be completely irresponsible of me to bring into this world a child that would have such brazen disregard for the temporal position of events. I urge anyone reading this who has ever been late or early, both of them equally despicable, to take a long hard look at yourself.
Bob Dylan once wrote The Times They Are a-Changin' which despite popular belief wasn't about a changing of the guard from The Establishment and its autocratic and imperialistic dogma. In fact it was a thoughtful and cautionary limerick about how the transitory present is constantly changing and therefore one must stay abreast of what the time is in order to fulfil their turning-up duties.
I am petitioning for a cull of all those that share a sinful life of sloth. Hopefully with your help we can have people like me, "non turner-uppers" (I'm coining the phrase), destroyed and the Queen can get on with turning up to things without those of us giving her a bad name with our tardiness. It would be nice to get it televised like the Royal Wedding so the Queen can greet the blood-thirsty mob, promptly of course, from the balcony of Buckingham Palace as they cock their guns both in anticipation of our arrival and as a sign of support for our non-elected head of state. I'll get on to David Dimbleby to see if he can commentate, he loves a royal event.
In the meantime, enjoy Monday's veneration of Britain and The Commonwealth's premier timekeeper. Don't be late.
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