Monday, June 02, 2003

Kenny Contra Monarchy

Once upon a time there was a farmer called Kevin. He lived with about 14 other Kevin’s and Kevina’s. They farmed, they ate, the propagated. During winter when they couldn’t farm they propagated like sewer rats listening to Prince. They propagated all night long (All Night! Aww-awwll niiigghhhhttt… etc.)

Then one day, loads of other Kevin’s just down the valley decided that they liked the Upper Valley Kevin’s Land just as much as their own, and so decided, one crisp June morning, to go up with some heavy stone tools they used to build houses with, and lamp the Upper Valley Kevin’s; propagate some Kevina’s, chuck them out and double the amount of land they had.

So the Upper Valley Kevin’s did wander until one man declared himself the Head Kevin, ordered his obviously anxious band of homeless Kevin’s to get some of that Red Stuff that the sorcerers removed from Rocks (which they usually made into grass cutting implements) and ordered them to turn it into Kevin Cutting Implements. Naturally, the lower valley Kevin’s were smitten in their lion-skin shell suits and annihilated.

This tradition of the “Head Kevin” would last until the 3rd Day of June, 2003 when the last in a long line of Head Kevina’s would demand that her Scottish Proles promise not to sack her or any of her scrounging family because otherwise how would she pay for her Ermine Robes, Versace Shoes or Nepalese Rent Boys (wearing nice Christian Dior Combat fatigues)?

Yes indeedy, Good Queen Mabel is traipsing north so we all have to very nice, curtsey and mention the war as often as possible.

Now, I can understand why Kevin in Ancient Africa needed some form of expedient hierarchy to defend himself. But, seriously, we’re reaching into the realms of political necrophilia by keeping this charade going.

Tradition is the word used by people who are scared of taking responsibility. Ancient Tradition is the term used by Right Wing Newspaper Editors who are too drunk to bother defending the former term.

If we’re being honest, in Scotland, the only people who actually agree with the monarchy are Ranger’s Supporters (because they’re so dumb they think it’ll piss off Celtic Supporters), Celtic Supporters (because they’re too lazy to chant “Fuck the Prime Minister”) and old women (who are senile and need someone to help their tea-cosy fashion sense).

I nearly became a monarchist once. I was sitting in work one day, listening to the political philosophising in between staring at my screensaver and wanting to leave for a cigarette. I work in Council Tax, so the main arch-villain seems to occasionally be Tommy Sheridan. But that wasn’t the problem. My work would solve the world’s problems. Imagine, if you will, a Scotland that doesn’t allow immigration; in which single mothers stay home and look after their kids (but don’t get an increase in benefit). I looked at the quality of political discussion, went away, and had my cigarette thinking: “And I want to let these morons vote for a Prez?” Look at America. George Dubya. Jesus.

But no, no, no. Kenny, I said, (because I talk to myself) Kenny, they’re not that dumb; they’re just leading you into a false sense of superiority. I said I “nearly” became a monarchist at that point. I didn’t because having fortunately spoken to people in the real world; most people aren’t as shallow, self-opinionated and dumb the people I work with. (N.B. I haven’t used a pseudonym for this page, so whatever the f**k you do, don’t forward this to your mates.)

The point in the hierarchy of Monarchy is that it’s a protection thing. The world was an incredibly violent place for tens of millions of years. If you weren’t getting molested by a Dinosaur, you were chucking some horny Mongol or Viking off your wife. Having leadership cements your own position. It’s the pack instinct, survival of the fittest.

But the thing is, in my opinion, we’ve grown beyond that. We still need leaders, but the lottery of whichever Norman Family is the best at shagging is getting a bit old. There are GOOD presidents.

Remember Yeltsin leading the People against the counter attack by the Communist Old Guard? Okay, so later on he was an alcoholic. Or maybe even Putin refusing to be bullied by America into Bombing Iraq? How about Castro defying America for years on their own doorstep?

Or even the dynasty of Germans who were played as pawns by the Allies for fifty years against the Soviet Union; who were attacked by some of the most effective and violent terrorist organisations in Western Europe; who faced the ashes of the second world war, having no army, very little remaining infrastructure and reputation as war criminals, Nazi’s and homicidal maniacs and having their country ripped into two. And despite all that, they built a country a damn site better than this one and united everything they lost.

Look at the evidence. The voices of the past have been silenced, sacked and replaced. All the heroes these families were bred from are now dead and their gene pool is so dangerously inbred that every royal is STILL screened for the same illness which drove King George III insane. Meanwhile the rest of the world moves on, and we still have to show deference to a bag lady, her mad husband and her vacuous children.

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