The Sound And The Fury
Is it my mathematics or those of the Wasteminster government? Over the date of the 60th anniversary of Elizabeth Saxe-Coberg-Gotha-Windsor, I mean (sorry, I’m not sure which name she prefers).
Her coronation was in 1953, right? And that was only fifty-nine years ago, right? And a Diamond Jubilee is to celebrate sixty years, right?
Of course, she inherited the family business when her Dad died in 1952. But that was in the February of that year. So street-parties should have been held a few months ago, shouldn’t they?
Questions, questions! But the major question must be: “What is being hidden while the eyes of The Proles are diverted by all this glitter and glamour surrounding a celebrity?”
While you’re pondering that, I shall steal away up into the hills to avoid all this artificial rejoicing.
Rally Round The Flag
I recall a chant – which, I think, became a reggae song – which black immigrants used to use a few years back: “There ain’t no black in the Union Jack.”
Indeed, I see hundreds of flags flying in Wales to commemorate whatever anniversary we’re supposed to be celebrating this weekend.
Those flags depict the nations which comprise the Union – the United Kingdom which we now call it.
And there is not a hint of Welshness shown on any of them.
Does that mean that Mother England has recognised the fact that Wales has been a separate state for centuries? If so, why can we not totally run our own affairs without touching our forelocks to Wasteminster for permission?
If we’re a part of the Union, I trust somebody is campaigning vigorously (there is no other ways to campaign) to have a Draig Goch stuck slap bang in the centre of the Union Jack!