It’s been denounced as a shocking example of secrecy and privilege. It took a three-year battle with the British Cabinet Office to get them to cough up the information that Prince Charles had been receiving confidential cabinet papers for decades. Stuff regarding secret proposals for new legislation and other discussion documents that the public won’t see for thirty years were available on the spot for Charles. Which meant when he lobbied for his pet projects – everything from the Iraq war to alternative therapies – he had handy inside info. As the chief executive of Republic, which campaigns for an elected head of state put it: “This means that he is not only the most influential lobbyist, but the best informed and he is lobbying for his own interests, which are not always benign or sensible”.
Charles, you’ll be glad to know, pays income tax. He doesn’t have to but he does. But before you throw your greasy cap at the moon, remember this. Charles is in possession – he doesn’t own it but it’s his to use during his time as Duke of Cornwall – of the Duchy of Cornwall. To say it’s big would be like saying Muhammed Ali was a successful boxer. It’s over 53,000 hectares and spreads over 23 counties. It’s also a nice little earner – last year it provided Charles with an income of just over £31 million. He also has four personal valets to lay out and pick up his clothes, a servant to squeeze his toothpaste onto the brush, and another who once held the specimen bottle while Charles delivered the required sample. He has over 2,000 bespoke suits and shirts, and it’s not unusual for him to change his clothes five times a day.
But hey – it’s a matter for the British people. If they’re happy to have a pampered Crown Prince, who they’re not sure they want as next on the throne, that’s their affair. But it does cast an interesting light on the good judgement of the British people and the good sense of people getting a job because their ma or da had it before them.
Great.story.jude.you.are.a.good.man.
And.you.are.too.kind.Jim.
Bit of morse code going on between yourself and Jim?
….//…\\, Ciarán….
Today, Radio 4 featured Jocelyn Bell Burnell, the astrophysicist discussing scientific methods. For others, the world is flat and 6,000 years old. It is strange indeed that in 2015 some hold the divine right of kings, a political and religious doctrine that asserts that a monarch is subject to no earthly authority, deriving the right to rule directly from the will of God. Well,we all know the adage, where there is a will, there are relatives.
Campaign Group Republic advocates change to the freedom of information laws, so that the royals are covered by the rules just like any other public body. The group campaigns for the following: full disclosure of lobbying and influence; an end to secrecy on tax and public funding; all laws to be made in public in line with the rules covering debates in parliament; an end to the Privy Council. That is some shopping list.
In the meantime, children are cautioned about taking gifts from strangers, however, there is no problem with Santa wandering around houses in the middle of the night.
Aw now Iolar…arresting Santa would be a bit of a waste of police time, wouldn’t it ….what with his proficiency for getting in and out of tight spots…eh?
Oh yes and when Charlie boy gets sight of them who is to say that those within his select circle don’t get to see them as well?
Some people would and do pay good money for that sort of information.
Disappointing, all the same, Esteemed Blogmeister, to read, in this the season of peace and good will, your somewhat downbeat take on Crown Prince Karl.
To haul oneself out of one’s trough of disappointment, one headed off to trawl one’s memory bank for happier assessments:
‘Your presence here, your courage, your innovation, your initiative in coming here has done more, in symbolic and in psychological terms, to sweeeeeep (for the purposes of emphasis, no going easy on the e’s) away the legacy of fear and suspicion, that has lain between our two peoples, than any other event in my lifetime’.
(The raising here of a Waterford glass of vin blanc from a round table festooned with – ominously, perhaps – the finest Wedgewood china, the brown-nosed host then got upstanding and proposed a toast as follows to his blue-blooded guest)
‘To her Majesty, the Queen and our two peoples…..Your Majesty…..’
Followed by a quaffing of Chateau de Merde , horse laughter a la TheDaily Telegraph that the riffraff do not know, and led by none other than the distaff side of the Royal House of Rodentia, Camilla the Chameleon.
Nobody quaffed or dared a carafe-prompted laugh till the hero and heroine Chas and Cam had done so first. It was a truly elevating moment in the short but stellar history of the Free Southern Stateen.
(Like cliché number 21 in the book of cinematic clichés, ‘nobody talks in a movie elevator except the hero and the heroine. The other passengers just stand silently, looking straight ahead’.)
Perkie’s outer bureaucrat, who was present at that august occasion in June ’95 in the hallowed surrounds of St. Patrick’s Hall in Dublin Castle, in the company of The Friendly Sons thereof, can remember musing at the time:
-The only fly in the anointed here is that Proinsias de Rostropovich has forgotten to bring along his celebrated cello for the occasion. So, he could put bow to string and bewitch the attendance with his celestial version of ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’.
(On mature reflection, however, it is possible his liveried flunkey had actually brought it along but that it had been refused permission to enter the portals of the former HQ of British Intelligence (for it was it !). Perhaps some long-memoried detective on doorman duty had refused admission, harbouring as he possible did, a residue of fear and suspicion from the gorey days of yore when a certain callow fellow with a cello used to do his drilling, oops, his scales on the airy mountains of Dublin and Wickow in the anything but scabby Fabulous Fifties).
Still, former Prime Minister John Briton, MP for the Royal Meath constituency (for it was he !), has a new book published just on cue for the Festive Season
Thus, there is always the consolation of having both chestnuts and John Briton’s book roasting on an open fire, to look forward to.
The authoritative author was interviewed by a hat-doffing Matt Cooper on DOBlin radio about his timely tome (‘Faith in Politics’). During the course of which the author managed one outright grammatical mistake, a downright, erm, factual inaccuracy and one uprighteous wish for 2016:.
‘Having wrote a book yourself, Matt’ is the number one; the second occurred while on the topic of modern European languages, or the lack of, in the primary schools of the FSS:
-Of course, we have two and a half hours of Irish being taught every day.
(A West Bruton day, seemingly, is the equivalent of an Irish week, dar fia).
While the third was a fervent wish that 2016 would be ‘an all-inclusive’ commemoration. Those to be included in his wish-list for c. purposes would be ‘the civilian casualties’ (caused by the rebels with ‘no faith in politics’) and also the British Army casualties, many of whom were Irish men.
Another one of blue-blooded and blue-shirted stock, has also been looming large of late, perhaps, even with Preztensions in mind. That would be the much decorated Peter Sutherland, aka Suds.
Suds, formerly of Spuds Land, flatly stated in his oval-shaped accent:
-I’m an Internationalist.
Eh?
This called, in truth, for some digging by Perkie’s inner sleuth, forsooth.
‘An Internationalist’, it would appear, is someone who studied Nationalism only up to Intercert level in those unfree fee-paying colleges which include compulsory elocution lessons on the curriculum, (up to and including Dort level).
The reason for the ‘only’ above is because it would seem that the schoolboy who went on to become the Pullman with 47 Honorary Doctorates decorating his walls (as of last week), actually flunked Nationalism at Inter Cert level. Hence the captivating caption: Internationalist.
To conclude on the note monetary: it is scarcely a coincidence that while John Briton attended Clongowes his fellow Internationalist attended a college with an initial syllable which rhymes. Gonzaga. Both Con and Gon rhyme with Spon.
Spon as in Spondulicks.
Who said the Royal cabal are only symbolic and have no influence in British govt policy? Every oath taken is to preserve them primarily before their subjects.
‘But hey, its a matter for the British people’.
No Jude, its not.
Because Irish people living in the north of Ireland are compelled to pay tax to support these buffoons.
The British like to tell us they live in a democracy, but this little story shows the falsity of their belief.
Because there are quite a few Brits, like Charlie, who are regarded as much more equal than the plebs.
I don’t think Charles actually gets tax-payers’ money, Sherdy…
“Because Irish people living in the north of Ireland are compelled to pay tax to support these buffoons.”
Sherdy, of all of the problems facing the Irish living in the north due to it still being under british occupation, the fact we have to pay tax into the occupying nations coffers is hardly a fair or justified complaint bearing in mind for every pound they take, it is costing them three, just to keep us in the manner to which we have become accustomed.