“OFF WITH THIS COLONIAL KNAVE’S HEAD!”
First a disclaimer for those who might think I am speaking out of some sort of ridiculous Anglophobic impulse.
It’s nothing of the sort. In that you will find evidence in the following items:
– I truly love England. It’s my second favorite country in the world after my own. I believe London to still be the greatest and most fascinating large city on the planet.
– I have lived in England and cherish the memory and wish it could have been a longer stay – like maybe forever — than a mere year.
– My heritage is exclusively Anglo-Saxon.
– I’ve been told that I speak with a slight English accent. I don’t really believe that but cannot truly hear myself when I speak.
– I have studied English history extensively and know it reasonably well and am versed in all the traditions of old Blighty.
– I have relatives and friends in England whom I cherish, and a cousin in England whom I adore and don’t see often enough.
All that said, though, I am not English. I was born in Canada. My parents were both born in Canada. One grandfather came here at 12 and one grandmother at 18. Pretty much Canadian by the end of their lives.
Yet the prime minister of this here country seems to think I really want to be an Englishman, and if not an Englishman, then at least a colonial. Latest moves on his part – when he should be doing maybe kinda important stuff like looking out for the environment, checking on the economy, getting rid of Senate crumbums, listening to the woes of pissed-off provinces – indicate a longing for red postal vans with Royal Mail and a Brit coat-of-arms on them, the Red Ensign, and the singing of God Save the Queen as a school ritual each morning with a big photo of Her Majesty dominating every school classroom, like they did when I was in school. That’s it. He’s longing for the days when I was in school and before that swinish bastard Trudeau (Sr) defiled all that was holy.
You know what, I don’t want to go back to there, even though Steve thinks putting neo-colonial pips on military uniforms will fix much of what is wrong with Canada.
In that context, I don’t give a rats about Kate’s pending baby other than to wish mother and child good health. Otherwise, they’re not on my radar nor are any members of their clan. I mean, the Queen is very nice and dutiful and all and I respect her greatly as a hard-working, honest and dedicated individual. Long may she reign. But, despite what Steve thinks I don’t think she reigns over me. Or at least that she should reign over me, mainly because I live in a foreign country and hold little truck with the concept of empires.
So, there has been a bit of a foofrah of late over whether Kate has a girl and whether that girl should jump the queue and give the finger to the concept of male primogeniture. You know, if young Brenda comes first her baby brother, Harvey, goes down the list. It’s already been opined that not all Canadians are comfortable with this. In the first place, who asked? Nobody asked me. And secondly, why would any Canadian actually give a shit? Personally, I’m of the King Ralph point-of-view. Let some other distant cousin take over the reigns. New blood and all.
What I would like, truly like, is for Canada to finally grow up and shuck the vestiges of the past. I would also like us to take over the Turks and Caicos Islands and also to adopt Adele.