The case for a British republic (BSDA #17)

As frequent readers of this blog will be aware, I am in favour of the abolition of the British monarchy. I want to explain why, and, rather than boringly explaining this in the conventional way, I am going to make my points as responses to common monarchist arguments in favour of the monarchy.

Monarchist arguments, and my rebuttals

1. Monarchy provides stability.

Inaccurate. There is an ongoing political crisis in monarchical Belgium which has resulted in there being no government for the eleven months since their last general election. Monarchies have fallen in Germany, Russia, Spain, Italy and numerous other countries. It is not true to say that monarchies are more stable than republics. The stability of a nation is based mainly on its prosperity, the unity of its citizens and its geographical location. There is no correlation between type of head of state and stability.

2. Monarchy is good for tourism.

Inaccurate. Of the top 20 British tourist attractions, only one is a royal residence - Windsor Castle at number 17. Windsor Legoland is ten places higher on the list. By that logic, we should have a Lego man as head of state. (Which would be ironic, as we haven't had Danish leaders for nearly a thousand years - in that time we've had French, Dutch and Germans instead...)

3. Monarchy, as a British tradition, is a good thing.

There are two assumptions at work here, both inaccurate. One is that monarchy is a British tradition. In fact, all the great political reforms in history - Magna Carta, the 1640s revolution, the Glorious Revolution, the development of parliamentary superiority in the 1700s - have been as a result of We The People fighting to gain power from an unaccountable hereditary leader. British traditions include democracy, the right to social mobility, religious pluralism, accountability and choice; all of which are incompatible with monarchy. Secondly, there's the notion that tradition is in itself a good thing. If that were true, we'd still have slavery, women wouldn't be able to vote and lords would still own our land. Oh, and we'd still be going around the world invading less powerful countries for their natural resources. (Ahem....) There's nothing implicitly good about  tradition itself - the past is only good when it's still relevant in the present and future. Monarchy is not.

4. A hereditary monarch is a unifying symbol.

This is a daft statement. A hereditary monarchy, in going against all British principles, is hardly a symbol that can be considered as unifying the nation. I think we acknowledge as a people that election is the only meaningful way of establishing who has power. So whatever we think about David Cameron, we acknowledge he has the moral right to be prime minister, as he's leader of the Conservative party, which has the most seats in the House of Commons. What physical right does Prince Charles have to become our next king? Also, can you really argue that the monarchy is unifying when the symbolism of the Crown, the flag and the monarch were such a part of the Troubles in Northern Ireland?

5. The royal family work hard for our country.

Hardly. They cut a few ribbons, go on fabulously expensive trips round the world at our expense and invite foreign despots and murderers to their weddings. This argument implies that the royals work harder than our great scientists, our artists, our engineers and builders. Anyone with half a brain knows this isn't true. Furthermore, the royals do nothing that an elected president could not. Or, indeed, anyone with half a brain...

6. Electing a leader would result in president Blair or president Thatcher.

The number of people who've said this to me makes it fairly certain that there wouldn't be, if either of these two ever chose to stand for election as a president. It seems absurd to suggest that these would be the only kind of candidates - the last two presidents of Ireland have been a barrister and a charity campaigner. We have plenty of these, and I think most would make fantastic leaders and role models to our citizens. Monarchists seem consumed with a self-loathing which makes them hate the people they themselves elect, and they therefore seem to think the random chance of birth can make better decisions about who's fit to rule than the people of Britain.

7. The monarchy has no power.


Probably the worst lie of all. In fact the monarchy has a massive and dangerous amount of power, which is vested by tradition in other parts of the government. The royal prerogative means that Tony Blair could go to war in Iraq without consulting parliament first. The monarch can choose anyone he/she wants as prime minister (see 1957 and 1963 for examples. Go on, look 'em up). The Crown-in-Parliament principle means that Parliament can pass any law it likes - meaning our liberties can never be guaranteed. All these intolerable abuses of power could be checked with a written constitution and a president to defend it. Finally, the monarch can legally do no wrong at all. He/she cannot be charged with any crime, impeached or tried in any way. Is that acceptable in the 21st century? I think not.

8. The monarchy is value for money.

Inaccurate. The monarchy costs over 100 times the Irish presidency, and is considerably worse in constitutional terms. In any case, democracy shouldn't be tempered by questions of cost. Democracy is a right, and we should defend it wholeheartedly.

9. People in other countries love our royals.

So it would seem. The sycophancy of the American press regarding the royal wedding is rather worrying. But you don't see Americans advocating a return to monarchy. Why? Because more than a foreign monarchy, they admire their own Constitution, a great document which sets out a republican system that has served the country well for more than 200 years, and has allowed even poor farmers like Abraham Lincoln, born in a one-room cabin in Kentucky, to rise to their nation's highest office. And anyway, are monarchists really suggesting our democracy is of less value than the ability to write fairytales for foreign television?

10. Having a president would result in a system like that in the USA.

No. I'm not suggesting that we move to a presidential system. I would see the parliamentary control over the executive retained, meaning we'd keep the post of prime minister. The president would be an impartial leader who would be tasked with preventing abuses of the constitution. When it gets written. The exact system I advocate is outlined here: http://dft.ba/-modelrepublic.


There are many more arguments for the republic, which I don't have the time to go into here. Any questions, put them in comments - I'll answer them all. Essentially, my view is that election is the only patriotic, democratic, modern and fair way to decide our head of state. For more information on all the questions of this complex debate, go to http://www.republic.org.uk/ and join the campaign to change Britain for the better. Also, if you go back to March in this blog, you can find a two-part rant on the ways that the monarchy retains its power and stifles any debate about itself.

Follow this blog if you like. More politics to come! Twitter: @antmoorfield. 

British politics, part two (BSDA #14)

Today - it's the crazy bit. Let's talk about the ridiculous elements of British democracy, most of which are characterised by their lack of democracy. We begin in the upper house of our national parliament, where, upon the red seats, in their ermine robes, our Lords carry out their work.

There are 792 of them currently, making the UK one of the few countries in the world to have more members in the upper house than in the lower. What are they doing there?, I hear you mumble disinterestedly. Well, I say, with gumption, 90 of them are there merely by who their fathers were. The hereditary peers of the land, of whom there are about 900, elect their ninety representatives to the house, which, in a peculiarly British sense, makes them the most democratically legitimate of  all the members. Only here.... Secondly, 26 of the lords are not lords at all, but bishops, the most senior within the Church of England. What are they doing there? Well, good question. There is no separation of church and state in the UK, meaning this unwelcome invasion into politics by members of a single religion, and also explaining why the odious national anthem contains reference to God. (For an atheist, republican and pacifist, my anthem is borderline offensive. I think the only word I relate to in it is "happy". And I'm that precious little, as well.) Finally, the majority of the Lords are simply chosen by the party leaders, who twice-yearly fill the house with their largest donors, most successful party apparatchiks and most irritating failed MPs. Ironically, this ramshackle bunch actually do a damn good job of preventing the occasional lunacies of government policies from becoming law, though they are ultimately subservient to the lower house due to the Parliament Act of 1911. This gatekeeping job means the Lords are actually more respected than the Commons by the vast majority of the population. Only here....

So that's that done. The monarchy, as you are no doubt aware, is an expensive joke. While the Queen's job as figurehead is undoubtably important, the idea of selecting a head of state based on whose womb they came out of is as repugnant as it is outdated. Secondly, the fact of the monarchy, far from being a safeguard on insanity, actually worsens democracy. The Royal Prerogative refers to actions which are consitutionally carried out by the monarch alone, which in this day and age means at the total whim of the prime minister. These include DECLARING WAR. Yes, the PM can, if he or she so desires, and they often do, declare war on another country without asking parliament at all. And they say the system works....

Finally, let's explore the minefield of devolution. As you know, the UK is made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. It may interest you to know that the latter three all have their own parliaments, national, proportionally elected, with powers over health, education and the like, while England does not, having to make do with the UK parliament, which of course has members from all four nations. Isn't that blatantly unfair?, I hear you scream through gritted teeth. Well, yes. In an attempt to cool the flames of Scottish and Welsh independence, and continue the peace process in NI, the last Labour government introduced these devolved parliaments, and, in a spirit of progressivism, made them proportionally elected (24th, guys!) and fair. Why is this a problem? Well, back when Labour introduced university tuition fees in England, the parliamentary vote was so tight, only a 20 vote majority, that it wouldn't have passed without the votes of Scottish MPs, whose own constituents WERE NOT AFFECTED thanks to their devolved parliament continuing to fund their students through university. MAHHH! Doesn't that make you insane? It does me.

Three examples of sham democracy there, folks. Join me again, probably on Saturday, when I'll maybe tell you what I have been  (will have had been?) doing this week, and will certainly review The Impossible Astronaut. For I am a Whovian. Follow, twitter, blah blah, OK zzzzz.


EDIT: Also someone vote on the damn poll, willya? Kthanxbai.

Observations on political systems. (BSDA #13)

One of the questions that has always fascinated me, ever since my interest in politics evolved into a dangerous and maddening obsession about three years ago, is that of how people in different countries relate to their political systems. I know far too much about this kind of thing, and I've decided to make the next few blogs purely informational ones about the practical and constitutional differences between different systems; namely, those of the USA, Britain, Germany and possibly any others that strike my fancy. That said, I thought a good way into these would be to try and tackle the question on a purely subjective level, by considering how the political cultures of different nations are borne out in their attitudes to their elected representatives.

So. A day or two ago I was watching a video on Youtube in which a young woman declared that since her leader, US President Obama, is a Democrat, this makes her a Republican. This is, in many ways, an extremely odd pattern of thought, yet extremely common, I have noticed, in my admittedly few dealings with Americans, and in other political debate. It is interesting, because such a logic implies that, firstly, there are only two answers to any political question, and, secondly, opposition to a single person and his/her policies means opposition to his/her broad position on the political spectrum. Duverger's law (more on that another day, when I will get terribly nerdy about electoral systems) tells us that in first-past-the-post systems such as that used in the USA, political thought inevitably polarises around two extremes, two political parties, with little possibility of compromise or cooperation. This incident, and, in a wider sense, the near-total hegemony of Democrat and Republican, two parties who often seem to be bitterly opposed to each other on fundamental levels, seems to be the apotheosis of such a concept. 

This phenomenon can be witnessed in the UK too, where we often hear such talk as "Labour caused the financial crisis" or "the Tories will wreck the NHS" (neither of which statements are totally wrong, or totally right), although here it is tempered by two factors - the disdain of the public for any party politician, whatever the stripe, and the widespread feeling that all three major parties are less than a gnat's wing apart from each other. Where in the USA Democrat and Republican seem implacably opposed to each other, here in the UK the parties are often considered too close to each other for any meaningful debate. It appears to me, and again this is based on purely circumstantial evidence, that such a feeling is not so powerful in those countries which have proportional representation. This system, which requires coalitions, cooperation and the willingness to listen to other shades of opinion, seems to me to foster a culture of understanding and of unity, which ultimately leads to a better politics. 

So there are some opening observations. Over the next few days of this blog, I will attempt to impart some of what I know, in a hopefully useful fashion, in the following order. I hope you are willing to keep reading, even in the scary bits. Out of the frying pan into the fire, as one might irrelevantly say.

April 16th - the British political system, part one: the House of Commons, the Cabinet and political parties.

April 17th - the British political system, part two: Lords, kings and devolved parliaments.

April 18th-22nd - I'm not here. Do something with your lives.

April 23rd - to break it up, a review of the first episode of Doctor Who! EXCITED.

April 24th - political systems compared across the world. Or something along those lines.

April 25th - the aforementioned nerdy electoral systems post. Be happy.

Et cetera.

Any suggestions, questions, criticism or whatever - either scribble down below or hit me up on twitter. You should follow me in both places too. Cos, you know. That's how we roll round here. 

twitter.com/antmoorfield

This blog was inspired by an impromptu twitter conversation with all-round interesting person Julia Taylor. Linky. about.me/juliabobulia92

When you think too hard when listening to OK Computer. (BSDA #9)

There's been a lot of philosophy sloshing round my head lately. Due to the influence of the work of Myles Dyer, which continues to interest, and also partly bewilder, me, and the upcoming practical events about which I have been moralising, that is, the royal wedding, the AV referendum and my exams, I've been rather too often contemplating the major metaphysical and philosophical questions of today, as opposed to, you know, revising, or some other socially useful activity. (Also my sentences are getting longer and more convoluted. Can you tell?)

Two days ago I managed to get a copy of OK Computer by Radiohead onto my iPod. This was necessary as I have effectively exhausted the capacity of my other examples of what I call thinking music, such as Sigur Ros, to direct my thoughts and emotions. Like any other human being of the last two decades, I have of course previously heard the album, but only in segments and without the time to give it the clarity of focus that is really necessary for an artwork of such stature.

Wikipedia suggests that the album contains references to themes of consumerism, social disconnection, political stagnation, transport, technology, insanity, death, modern life in the UK, globalisation, and political objection to capitalism. All of which are very interesting. As with all great art, however, as an independent piece it kind of falls apart. It is only when considered as part of the society it critiques that the album's genius can be seen. And this is what this last weekend has enabled.

I went to an aristocratic stately home, redolent with the imagery of a decaying and outmoded class, while all the same still occupying a privileged position within the society of Britain today, a view which can be clearly extended to the royal family, about whom I have previously made my feelings clear, the privileged bourgeoisie, who David Cameron laughably calls the "sharp-elbowed middle classes" and the hyper-wealthy, a group most clearly defined as City bankers, who of course take home sickeningly fabulous profits from their pie-in-the-sky gambling games with ordinary taxpayers' money, despite a failure so dramatic that it caused the greatest economic crisis since the Depression. (We learnt today, incidentally, that the ostensibly Independent Commission on Banking has refused to recommend legislation to separate the commercial and investment arms of our banks, which would have created a system similar to that in the USA after FDR's Glass-Steagall Act of 1933, which perfectly controlled the excesses of the banking system until its repeal in 1999. Though sadly none of the other excesses of American life.)

Similarly, I've been taking more notice of advertising and in particular the perfect, impossible images of what one should aspire to that it creates. One thing that is incredibly irritating in this regard is when adverts are filmed with actors clearly only mouthing, and the sound is later dubbed on in some metropolitan studio. Maybe it's just me, but I find this effect extraordinarily dehumanising and asocial, perhaps a reflection of the essentially impossible task of living up to these created visions of social worth, a choice that regrettably we all seem to partly subscribe to, however powerful and positive the expansion of subcultures to include the previously marginalised is.

Which leads me to the internet. I have a truly ambivalent relationship with the rapidly changing internet society, caused by an essential ambivalence toward technology and its power to effect social change. While we have seen some momentous developments in recent months, which were at least in part to do with social networking sites (I'm thinking of course of the revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia), there are so many examples of the way in which the internet now only serves the interests of the established status quo - by bringing us closer only to the minutiae of celebrity lives, Twitter has further distanced us from any meaningful control of power, and the fabulous profits now made by the major social networks at the cost of any real affinity for the consumer seems to indicate only the reification of the human beings who are ourselves continually creating such possibilities.

OK Computer, more than any other recent album (though there has been some magnificent work even this year, so anyone who tells you music is dead is a liar), makes me think about things - especially the individual and his relationship to a rapidly changing, information exchanging, power controlling new consumerism whose only unique selling point is its facility and meaninglessness. While not as dismal as The Bends it is nonetheless profound, and to me it presents in musical form the feeling of wanting to curl up in a ball and wait till it all goes away. As I said, I think too hard. It deadens my head, actually.

The Baader-Meinhof Complex REVIEWED. (BSDA #5)

So today I watched a film called the Baader-Meinhof Complex, about the Rote Armee Fraktion, the extremist left-wing terrorist organisation which operated in Germany mainly in the 1970s. Let's start with the simple bit. It was an extremely good film which I would recommend to anyone with an interest in terrorism (not in that way, you understand), late German history or social revolutions. Or indeed simply if you like good films. (Parental advisory, of course, given the copious amounts of violence, drug use and nudity.)

Fred Kaplan of the New York Times said that "when the film opened in Germany last year, some younger viewers came out of theaters crestfallen that the Red Army Faction members, still mythologized, were such dead-enders. Some who were older complained that the film had made the gang look too attractive. But they were dead-enders, and they were attractive. A film about them, or any other popular terrorist movement, has to account for both facts if it seeks to explain not just their crimes but also their existence."

I think this is a brilliant review, hence the shameless stealing. The best thing about this film is that it neither totally glamorises nor totally pathologises the RAF - instead it gives you the whole story. The violence, the sexual freedom, the casual misogyny, the brutal murders, the disdain for the law both from the RAF and the authorities, the madness, the Marxian politics and the wider picture of the radicalised German left of the time. There's very little in the way of moralising here; some have argued there's too little. It is the viewer's decision as to how to interpret the actions of the RAF: are they just brutal killers? Sexy freedom fighters? A group with ideals gone wrong? To me, the latter seems the case, but this is a matter of individual interpretation. 

Despite the German film industry only having about four actors, the movie is superbly acted throughout. Even the guys in bit part roles manage to fill you with an understanding of their characters' complexities and the difficulties of living in such a radical and brutal world as that of the RAF. I did however think some of the characters' roles were underdeveloped, and too many characters simply popped in and out of the action randomly, though this is probably a necessary consequence of trying to summarise the actions of a movement over ten years within two and a half hours. 

Whether you watch it as a study of a hugely controversial group in recent history, or as a crime drama, or as a political thriller, there is very little wrong with this film. It was a worthy recipient of its many awards, and is only a part of the 21st century renaissance within German film which happily shows no signs of abating.

9/10

Oi oi oi. If you enjoyed reading this, there's only one thing to do now. No, not hijack a plane or storm the German embassy in Stockholm. Follow this blog. And good stuff will probably happen.

Barely quantifiable anger

So I was reminiscing today about last year's student protests, and how a largely peaceful and passionate movement was hijacked by a few vandals, who of course got all the attention from the conservative media. While a pessimist might note that the protests entirely failed in their aims, that seems a fairly pointless conclusion to reach given that a majority of the population supported the protesters (who did include me, though on a school-level protest, not the main London one - we got on the local news though!) and the disapproval rates of the government have stayed high all winter.

Last Saturday, the March for the Alternative in London brought together 400,000 people opposed to the irrational and ideologically motivated cuts to public services introduced by this government. (Let's be clear - no-one voted for this, me because I was too young (!) but most people because even the Tory manifesto said "no frontline cuts" and "no top-down reorganisations of the NHS".) Once again, there was sporadic trouble but this time literally only 50 or so people did anything criminal at all. The Daily Mail's resident bigot, Melanie Phillips tried to tar the legitimate protest group UK Uncut with the epithet of anarchists, but, y'know, they aren't. However, it emerges that the UK Uncut members who occupied Fortnum and Mason were tricked into arrest by the police, who, a video released on the Guardian website makes clear, said they would be free to go when they left the store. They then walked out... straight into a police kettle where they were immediately arrested. Ho hum.

So this brings me back to this blog's title. Anger is a relative concept. It's possible to get astoudingly angry about tiny little things, while allowing capitalists to get away with paying only a pittance in taxes to a country which gives them everything. Anger must be directed if it is to achieve anything. The March for the Alternative and the UK Uncut movement are all legitimate harbingers of anger, but we must be so careful not to let vandals and wreckers destroy them as they did the tuition fees protests. An irresponsible and biased media is clearly not going to help here. Therefore activists must keep making their case eloquently and passionately in the British democratic tradition, so that the barely quantifiable anger against the government of the country's progressive majority can be refined into a real popular movement - a movement with the power to change.

Phillips: http://bit.ly/fK7Pe7
Guardian footage: http://bit.ly/fto02l
My point made better: http://bit.ly/iaxIEH

Anthems

I made a list of good national anthems. This is good revision. Oh... wait. No, the other one. A complete, albeit satisfying, waste of time. I waste time frequently.


The official top seven.

• Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit - Germany. This is the best cos it's nice, int'it? *
• La Marseillaise - France. This one fits best the country's national stereotype. There's something about letting impure blood water your furrows that can only be French. Maybe it makes the garlic grow better or something.
• Advance Australia Fair - I won't insult your intelligence. Some Aussies don't like this. They say it's too dull. But believe me, guys. You were right to choose it over GSTQ, which is simply the worst dirge ever written.
• O Canada - best used to make ironic statements about the United States. **
• Fratelli d'Italia - aside from an introduction that sounds like a fairground ride's music, this is absolutely brilliant. You just can't help but love it.
• Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau - inspiring and beautiful. This is why the Welsh often beat us at rugby. ***
• Het Wilhelmus - possibly the only anthem to be written in the first person. The reference to the king of Spain is admittedly odd, but this does sound wonderful, although I totally understand that it is slow and reverent and suffers from the two problems I always attack GSTQ for, being, a praising of God and a monarchical sentiment. Also, ik hou van hoe de Nederlanders spreuk woorden. (Sorry. Google translate.)

*Some stupid people think it's Deutschland über alles, which hasn't been true since Hitler and is totally at odds with modern German liberalism. They're not crazy militarists, you idiotic British racists.

** How many Americans know that their anthem's tune comes from an old English drinking song called To Anacreon In Heaven? The song was commonly used as a sobriety test: if you could sing a stanza of the notoriously difficult melody and stay on key, you were sober enough for another round. Haha. I'd buy a drink for anyone who could recite Francis Scott Key's lyrics after a couple, though.

*** Except this year!!! Yay for England. Boo for the Grand Slam fail. :(

Honourable mentions.

• Auferstanden aus Ruinen. So yeah, this isn't an anthem anymore, and yeah, it was kinda the anthem of a repressive totalitarian regime... but come on. It's lovely. It's sweet and fluffy, like clouds and sheep in springtime and hummingbirds and pillows and the Stasi. 
• The Internationale and The Land. Two anthems here, each not to a nation, but rather to political ideologies, socialism and liberalism ( the latter is more specifically for land value taxation, but let's not overcomplicate things). Regardless of your political inclinations (I sit uneasily between both these camps) these songs are magnificent anthems for what they claim to represent.
• Jerusalem. So this isn't actually the anthem of anywhere, but it should be. The only important patriotic song which actually mentions England, a progressive anthem to unity and a theologically and politically radical song (no, it isn't a hymn and the mentions of Jesus are deliberately ambiguous and ultimately negative) which is nicely complex and affords many potential interpretations, this is the only possible anthem for England. 

I hope you enjoyed that. Procrastination over.

The monarchy, parts two and three

Last time on "antmoorfield rants incoherently", we discussed the issue of that august British institution of the Parliament and how its members are somehow unable to criticise that other august British institution the monarchy.

You may know, unless you herd goats in Mongolia for a living, that next month is this country's first real royal wedding for 30 years. (Chas and Cam don't count, cos he's a divorcee and she's a dog.) Oh the atmosphere is electric - the coverage on the media gets ever more hysterical and faux-patriotic, and TV presenters shriek such absurdities as "everyone wants an invitation to the royal wedding" (Kate Galloway) at such soul-splitting volume that dogs up and down the land have been known to run around their gardens yelping. (By dogs here I of course mean middle-aged female conservatives.)

There is a surprising lack of response to this media infatuation with two privileged toffs tying the knot. This is despite the fact that absolutely no-one I know is the slightest bit interested in the event, apart from middle-aged female conservatives. Everyone else knows that the wall-to-wall Kate and Wills (what a ghastly nickname) coverage is just a front for savage Tory cuts and the imminent double-dip recession. But still, a nice day out for all the family. And you'll get the time off if you've just lost your job....

Media orthodoxy scares me, as a liberal, as whenever someone (even when that someone is Sky's resident harridan Kay Burley) proclaims that the whole country is in favour of something, and overjoyed at the prospect of our future king and his beautiful queen having a fairytale wedding, I have to ask when we emigrated to Nazi Germany. I wasn't aware that free speech was forbidden. (Well, at least before the Bryant affair. Ref part one...)

Finally, it must be said that although I totally acknowledge that republicans like myself are a minority in this country (the figure's remained constant at around 20% since the 60s) there does seem to be a massive shock whenever someone says they are one. I don't know if this is just the rural naturally conservative area in which I live, but everyone I've told of my republicanism seems totally surprised and, even, kind of concerned. (You see? Why do I have to couch this in the language normally used to describe gay people coming out! This is a political belief, you know, not a sexuality!)

The apathetic majority, around 75% if figures can be believed, are not being allowed to consider both sides of the argument. When people bumble on about tourism, time and tradition, it seems to me that there is a wilful desire to cut off debate at source. Now the pressure group Republic have a brilliant denunciation of all monarchist arguments, so I have no need to go into the answers here. All I'm trying to say is that this country thrives on debate. There's no sense in refusing to talk about something because you think you'll lose the argument - children do that. Most people have grown up, on the whole. (Notable exceptions including Boris Johnson, Richard Hammond and the son and heir, Charles Windsor.) This is a debate that we need to have. I'd like to see a referendum on the monarchy, probably when the current Queen dies, and with both sides given the option to present their opinions fairly and without the media bias that currently existed. To me, this would give people the chance to talk about what it means to be British, what it means to respect traditoin and what, ultimately, is the point of democracy.

Signing off,

antmoorfield.

Vive la Republique!

The monarchy, part one

It is a common misconception, among non-British people, that we're all fascinated by, and in love with, the monarchy. Many (by which I mean a very small number, because my internationalism is something that I need to work on) non-British people have said to me something along the lines of "do you go and drink tea with the Queen at Buckingham Palace? Have you seen the Crown jewels? Isn't it a fairytale?" The answers to these questions, by the way, in reverse order, are, "no, not really", "yes", and "of course not, you blithering fool". (It's worth pointing out that this is actually made up, but go with it. I'm going somewhere, you'll see.) However, to a great extent this is cultural assumption and stereotype, and so there isn't really anything significant to read into it. Furthermore, the extent to which this is meaningful is very little - to most foreigners, the importance of the monarchy as a concept stretches about as far as tourism and some dollars and yen for the Exchequer.

On the other hand, it is rather more disturbing when the great British people seem to be wilfully rejecting any kind of rational debate into the issue of whether having a monarchy is actually appropriate, democratic or even legitimate. Three facets of this debate infuriate me. Let's deal with them in turn, by the process of male-dominant primogeniture if you insist.

Firstly, it came to my attention this week that it is actually forbidden to criticise the royals or their institution in Parliament. Now, OK, this takes some getting used to. There's this building, right, where people go and discuss matters of great urgency to the nation in order to get their political views into legislation. Excellent idea! One of the few things we Brits can be proud of is the exportation of democracy to the rest of the civilised world. But there's an issue. This week in Parliament, former Foreign Office minister Chris Bryant MP asked whether the disgraceful conduct of the Duke of York (porcine bloke, arrogant, loudmouth, altogether an arse) would be grounds for calling for his resignation as the UK's Special Trade Representative, a job which involves going round the world buttering up diplomats and politicians so we can flog stuff at them. Perfectly legitimate question. I'll let you guess what happened next, based on the normal rules of parliamentary procedure.

a) The Speaker took note of his comment and promised to arrange a debate on the subject
b) The Speaker took note of his comment and promised to deliver Bryant's concerns on the matter to the relevant minister.
c) The Speaker took note of his comment and promised to allow other hon. Members to talk on the issue.

Taken your guess?

No, you're all wrong! It's actually d) The Speaker took issue with his comment and forcibly told him that all references to the royals in the house should be "brief, sparing and respectful" and refused to let debate continue. I'll let you digest that.

This is a democratic house where people discuss social issues. Check. Free speech is a right in a civilised society. Check. People are elected to try to make the world a better place. Check.

So why in the name of all that's liberal can't we even debate this issue in a democratic house! This is a national disgrace - all that talk of liberty and equality is just arse-gas, it seems - us poor plebs should know our place and not question our betters, gawd bless 'er Majesty.

Good Christ! (Let's not forget that the established church is headed by the Queen herself. It doesn't take an Archbishop to work out the problems that causes...)

So. We have this situation, where 20% of the British people are unable to express their concerns about the monarchy in the elected House of Commons. OK, so. Where next? Yeah, the media.

In part two of this angry rant, we consider the role of the newspapers and telly in this national shitpile. Until then, keep warm, keep happy and keep well.

30 Day Song Challenge

One interesting way to learn things about people, so I'm told, is to look at what music they like. With that in mind, on FB (Visigoth as I am, I do use it) I'm doing this 30 day song challenge. I'll post up the songs here, partly so I don't forget, but also because it will be jolly illuminating, I hope.

Day 01 - your favourite song. Procol Harum - A Whiter Shade of Pale.
Day 02 - your least favorite song. The Gummy Bear Song.
Day 03 - a song that makes you happy. The Monkees - I'm A Believer.
Day 04 - a song that makes you sad. Miles Davis - Blue in Green.
Day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone. Elvis Costello - Red Shoes.
Day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere. Buena Vista Social Club - Chan Chan.
Day 07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event. Gil Scott-Heron - The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.
Day 08 - a song that you know all the words to. Devo - Jocko Homo.
Day 09 - a song that you always sing along to. Hank Green - A Song About An Anglerfish, a.k.a. The Anglerfish Song Regarding the Human Mentality In Respect To How to Interpret Perpetually Felt Emotion While Educating You on the Subject of Anglerfish.
Day 10 - a song by someone you want to see live. Villagers - On A Sunlit Stage.
Day 11 - a song from your favorite band. Led Zeppelin - Misty Mountain Hop.
Day 12 - a song from a band you've just discovered. Lone Wolf - The Devil And I.
Day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure. 10cc - The Wall Street Shuffle.
Day 14 - a song from an artist you think none of your friends have heard of. The Mountain Goats - Love Love Love.
Day 15 - a song that no-one would expect you to love. Kenickie - Nightlife.
Day 16 - the song that contains your favourite lyrics. The Magnetic Fields - All My Little Words.
Day 17 - your favourite instrumental. Wipe Out - The Ventures.
Day 18 - a song you wish you heard on the radio. Television - Marquee Moon.
Day 19 - a song from your favorite album. The Beatles - She Said She Said.
Day 20 - a nostalgic song. The Kinks - Days.
Day 21 - your favourite cover. Traffic - Feelin' Good.
Day 22 - a song you'd listen to in your car. Driftless Pony Club - House of 1982 Built Like A Ship. 
Day 23 - your favourite song with an animal in the title. The Bees - Chicken Payback.
Day 24 - your second favourite song with an animal in the title. Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.
Day 25 - a song you play air guitar to. Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb.
Day 26 - a song that makes you laugh. Tom Milsom - Catsongs II: Livia Deliberated.

Day 27 - a song with a great music video. Ultravox - Vienna.

Day 28 - a song that you wish you could play on an instrument. Focus - Hocus Pocus.
Day 29 -  a song that reminds you of your country. PJ Harvey - The Last Living Rose.
Day 30 - a song that is worthy of being last in the list. Simon and Garfunkel - The Sounds of Silence.