Royal Traditions

Watching from afar and by accident it was clear to me that the royal wedding was an absolute exercise in full-on bullshit. Why do we care about these people? Why is royalty even something we entertain or condone in this day and age? And is it me or is the inbreeding glaringly obvious? I mean look at Prince Charles’ ears. I bet you his fingers are like yard sticks.

What I really get a kick out of is the non-stop array of trivial traditions that precede almost everything. The white gloves shall remain on until the horse is dismounted. Said gloves shall be placed in a box and handed to a guy in a strange outfit. He will walk four paces to the left and not look anyone in the eye.  Elder statesmen will carry swords. The queen will send you a letter if she accepts your desire to have tea with her. The white gloves will still be in the box. A separate pair of white gloves will also be in a box in case the others prove to be faulty. You will arrive in a gold carriage. Ask permission before you step out. Just do it. It’s tradition.  Do not look at the box containing the white gloves. Wave. Wave some more. But without the gloves. They’re still supposed to be in the box. Wait for the queen to approach you. Take six steps forward, outreach your hand, have her take it. She will push you away when she’s done. Why? Because it’s tradition. And because she’s an asshole.  Now, finally, take the white gloves out of the box, drop your knickers and wipe your ass with them.