I am not ashamed to admit that newspaper photographs in recent days of American TV presenter Melissa Bachman laughing as she stands over a majestic lion that had been stalked and shot dead by Bachman herself left me tearful. Although I have previously felt enraged by the asininity of U.S. congressman Paul Ryan, and political fluffhead Sarah Palin – both of whom also kill beings for fun, there is something especially lamentable about the Bachman smile of pride as the lion – a symbol of strength, heraldry and natural beauty, lies lifeless in answer to Bachman’s need for temporary amusement. The world struggles to protect the rhino and the elephant – both being shot out of existence, yet Bachman joins the murderous insanity of destruction without any fear of arrest.
This comes in the same week that Princess Anne condones horsemeat consumption – since she is evidently not content with eating pigs, sheep, cows, birds and fish. Although her slackwitted view is reported with mild surprise by the British media, there is no outrage since the crassness and international duncery of the British so-called ‘royal family’ remains the great unsaid in British print. It is spoken of, of course, but it is not allowed to go further than that. Why does Anne approve of slaughter of any kind? Has she ever been inside an abattoir? Does she actually know what she’s talking about?
Similarly, on October 5, the Daily Mail newspaper gave us all an “amusing” report of thickwit Pippa Middleton laughing as she stood over 50 birds shot dead by her friends and herself after a “busy day’s shooting”. We are reminded by the Daily Mail that Middleton is a ‘socialite’, which tells us that she is privileged and can more-or-less kill whatever she likes – and, therefore she does. The sick face of modern Britain, Pippa Middleton will kill deer, boar, birds – any animal struggling to live, or that gets in her socialite way. This is because her sister is, of course, Kate, who herself became ‘royal’ simply by answering the telephone at the right time, and this association allows Pippa’s kill, kill, kill mentality to be smilingly endorsed by the British print media, to which only the mentally deficient could join in with the laughter. The right to kill animals is endorsed by Prime Minister David Cameron who shoots stag whenever he feels a bit bored. In the Queen’s Honors List, awards have been bestowed upon musicians Bryan Ferry and PJ Harvey – both of whom allegedly support fox-hunting. There is not one single instance when an animal protectionist has found themselves knighted or applauded by the Queen. That animals are an essential part of our planet (that they are, in fact, the planet) and must be protected, is a shatterbrained concept to the British ‘royals’. Historically, we all remember Prince William proudly killing the baby deer, Prince Harry bravely giving the thumbs-up as he pointlessly ended the life of a water-buffalo, the Queen loading her shotgun in readiness to shoot birds out of the sky. How terribly regal.
Although the natural idiocy of the British ‘royals’ is internationally acknowledged, it still doesn’t make their behaviour any less alarming.
Animals who are free (or, if you insist, ‘wild’) lead lives of struggle; their every moment absorbed by the need to find food for themselves and their offspring. They have a natural instinct to survive – as do animals in abattoirs, but they cannot compete against the loaded hunting-guns of Pippa Middleton or David Cameron. It is by no means a fair game. Has Melissa Bachman considered hunting without a shotgun? We might then be impressed if she manages to bring a lion down. Dingbat coward Sarah Palin shoots at running bears from the safety of her multi-million-dollar helicopter, and the Queen continues to endorse the trapping of the Canadian brown bear so that her senior servile guardsmen might look their prettiest. The babies of the trapped and murdered adult bears are left to die slowly – unable to survive without their mothers. Wearing enough real fur to encircle Russia, our beloved Queen Elizabeth couldn’t care less. Death dwells in life.
In lordly London, a proudly moral statue stands on Park Lane. It honors animals that “served” during the war, boldly telling us They Had No Choice.
There is no statue that states: ANIMALS IN ABATTOIRS – THEY HAVE NO CHOICE.
The homicidal mania of the abattoir, the murderous insanity of the badger kill (‘cull’ is far too soft a word for what takes place – not in order to protect cows – who are butchered, anyway, but in order to make more money for farmers); and from this, we wonder how the human race can make any claims of humanity. We must ask why it is thought that animals deserve such horrific treatment. No British government has ever had an Animal Protectionist MP, yet animals outnumber humans on the planet. It is quite easy, I’ll admit, to blame the mentally defective ‘royals’ for continually setting such a cretinous example where animal welfare is concerned; we recall William and Kate in Canada laughing hysterically as a bull, whose abdomen has been cinched with a bucking strap, is jumping in agony before the stiffly-apart-together lovely ‘royal’ couple – who are both clapping excitedly. Where is humanity? Where is any sense of goodness and pity? And what is so terribly funny about torture?
The nub of this argument is the press insistence that the ‘royals’ are in possession of a morality that the rest of us would all wish to rise to, and that they are also a form of church for the British people. No, no, no. Not true.
We are continually told (warned?) that we love the ‘royals’ whatever their conduct, and we see very clearly how this most dysfunctional family must – at all costs – leave a virtuous emblem on the age, as we also see how no British citizens (for we are not subjects) can be considered qualified enough to question the ‘royals’ – or to even be allowed to ask why it is thought necessary to have a monarchy in the first place – especially as most countries throughout the world exist quite well without royal boils. Although the cash-cow subject of tourism is frequently raised in order to support the annual 50m grabbed from public taxes in order to lavish on the ‘royals’, it should be noted that people do not refuse to visit the Eiffel Tower simply because there is no Queen of France.
The mystery in England is why the ‘royals’ are repeatedly forced upon us with a cleansed aura – one that is not theirs by nature. We are asked to feel round-the-clock concern for the failing health of Prince Philip, yet his offhand civility is all we’ve ever known of him, and since his life has meant nothing to the British people then why should his approaching death? Although the press is continually conscious of pushing any story too far, there is mysteriously no suspicion of utterly sterile boredom where ‘royal news’ (i.e, non-news) is concerned. Nothing in the bearing of the Queen speaks to, or for, modern Britain. Speech is a question of rhythm, and even this the Queen has failed to master in her very lengthy lifetime of being unable to address a nation without auto-cue. Is she incapable of speaking directly from the heart? That the future of the monarchy rests on the natural idiocy of Harry, zombified William and airhead Kate, is quite frightening. We, the British public, are trapped.
In our democratic society, how do we call for the ‘royals’ to resign and retire? Where is our platform? Who will let us speak? We, who are neither apocalyptic anarchists nor extremists, who speak softly and care primarily for the environment and all living beings, feel embarrassed by what the ‘royals’ do today far more than whatever they did 200 years ago. But how can we speak without being Tasered away? In an England that is said to be democratic, how can a self-elected monarchy have any place? It can’t. If the ‘royals’ are a dictatorship – which they obviously are – then how can England be democratic? When the British public booed Charles and Camel off Regent Street, the British police were ready to turn the tanks onto the very people who are forced to pay for the ‘royals” upkeep. How is this democracy? Evidently, with visions of rising People Power in the Middle East, the British establishment must be terrified that such an awakening might take place against them.
The media, quite naturally, are always ready to report on ‘anti-royal extremists’, yet I have never once heard the term ‘pro-royal extremists’. Evidently someone is only extreme if you don’t happen to like their clothes.
People in power never give up power. Look at Assad – if you must; his dingbat wife continuing to smile and wave, wrapped in Fendi, as the people of Syria disappear into dust. It is the same shame that the British utilized whilst claiming ownership of the Malvinas by shooting anyone who stood in their way. How very brave. Imagine if Taiwan claimed the Isle of Wight. Yes, it is that silly. The Queen is conveniently said to have no political power, yet it would be impossible to imagine her government disagreeing with her if she elected to return the Malvinas to the Argentinian people, and although David Cameron is gung-ho ready to see more British and Argentinian boys die in battle for this odd bit of turf, he cannot see the richer intellect in simply returning the islands to their rightful owners. Yet Cameron is haughtily aghast when people run riot on the streets of Coventry stealing hair-dryers worth ten pounds. Outrage!
What is never considered is how the occupants of the Malvinas (who want to bask in the south seas whilst also having the benefit of the NHS, and who number only about 2,500) are quite satisfied to sit back and watch service personnel die defending their post box. Has such selfishness ever been known? What makes it all worth it?
Thank you to Russell Brand for standing up and speaking out in recent weeks. Like anyone who speaks out in modern Britain, he has been shot down. Nothing must interfere with the depressive psychosis of modern Britain, which has become a most violent and melancholic country, with no space for measured debate. Like Russell, I believe that the most powerful vote you can give is No Vote; for the days of Prime Ministers have gone, and it’s time for a form of change that is far more meaningful than simply switching blue to red. The print media will only support people who do not matter and who are incapable of instigating thought – David ‘rent-a-smile’ Beckham; his wife – famous for having nothing to do; the dum dum dummies of the Katie Price set; the overweight Jamie ‘Orrible, who tells us all how to eat correctly.
At what point did the dis-United Kingdom become a cabbagehead nation? Where is the rich intellect of debate? Where is our Maya Angelou, our James Baldwin, our Allen Ginsberg, our Anthony Burgess, our political and social reformers? At what point did the shatterbrained scatterbrains take over – with all leading British politicians suddenly looking like extras from Brideshead Revisited? Although it is clear to assess the Addams Family of SW1X as the utterly useless and embarrassing ambassadors of a sinking England, how can we effect change without being tear-gassed? In the absence of democracy, there is no way.
I write this without outburst; a staunch non-terrorist, quietly, calmly and composedly, as I mourn the loss of the land.
16 November 2013.