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God Help The British Monarchy

One of the problems of hereditary office is that you risk to have someone in office who is a total moron, but still more or less entitled to the office because of birth. Whilst several ways have been historically devised to deal with the problem – a stupid or cowardly King would have had a great deal of trouble in keeping the loyalty of his influential subjects, and would have run a constant risk of being sent to an early grave – the matter has become more evident as the hereditary office has become less important or, as in the case in question, irrelevant to all intents and purposes – with the exception, perhaps, of a bit of pomp and circumstance.

Here in the United Kingdom, the British subjects are living a very special drama now, with the increasingly more disquieting realisation that a moron of stellar proportions is to become, very probably, the King one day.

Said moron has given today another example of his astonishing lack of basic intelligence, by letting the world know that the human race risks to cause its own extinction. Now, if said heir to the throne had had an intelligence higher than the one of a seven-years-old child, he would have known that as Defender of the Faith – what he will be called to be – he is just attacking the faith he is supposed to defend if he thinks that Jesus might be fooled by those little human beings, who are simply faster than Him and deprive Him of the Last Judgment he has promised, and all this out of sheer unwillingness to listen to a moron. No gnashing of teeth anymore, no Judge coming down from the same direction whence he went on Ascension day. “From thence He shall come, to find the planet inhabited”, says the Creed of the Royal Moron. I wonder if even the other Head Moron, Al Gore, would show such basic lack of common Christian sense.

As things are, the probable end of the already rather weakened monarchy in this Country can be avoided only in one of three ways:

a) the Prince of Wales makes all of us a favour and extinguishes himself in an environmentally friendly way by kicking the royal bucket before his long-suffering mother; this reduces Co2 emissions, too;
b) the Prince of Wales refuses the Crown for some reason particular to him – say, that it is not made of hemp as he requested; or that he is not allowed to become the Defender of the Friends of Biggus Dickus, see video above -, or
c) that the Privy Council decides that the man is too much of an idiot even for a role who doesn’t require anything more than smiling and kissing the odd child, and decide to offer the Crown to the infinitely more representative, popular and reliable William for manifest lack of suitability – and brains – of the first in line.

On days like this, it feels so good to have been born in a Republic.

Mundabor

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