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If the Queen had any sense of occasion, she’d celebrate her longevity by karate-chopping Nicholas Witchell in the mouth If the Queen had any sense of occasion, she’d celebrate her longevity by karate-chopping Nicholas Witchell in the mouth
(about 1 hour later)
At half past five on Wednesday afternoon, about 15 minutes into Pointless, Queen Elizabeth II will officially become Britain’s longest-serving monarch. It will be a truly momentous occasion; speaking both to the remarkable tenacity of a woman tasked with putting the country’s happiness before her own, and the age-defying effects of eating lots of nice dinners and never really having a proper job.At half past five on Wednesday afternoon, about 15 minutes into Pointless, Queen Elizabeth II will officially become Britain’s longest-serving monarch. It will be a truly momentous occasion; speaking both to the remarkable tenacity of a woman tasked with putting the country’s happiness before her own, and the age-defying effects of eating lots of nice dinners and never really having a proper job.
And how will she mark this incredible, unprecedented feat of longevity? By making a speech at a train station. Or, more accurately, by possibly making a speech at a train station, because she apparently hasn’t decided yet. But that’s it. That’s all she’s doing. The Queen is making history, but she’s pulling it off with all the flair of a six-year-old being forced to write a thank-you note on the last day of summer to an auntie she’s never met for a toy she’s already got.And how will she mark this incredible, unprecedented feat of longevity? By making a speech at a train station. Or, more accurately, by possibly making a speech at a train station, because she apparently hasn’t decided yet. But that’s it. That’s all she’s doing. The Queen is making history, but she’s pulling it off with all the flair of a six-year-old being forced to write a thank-you note on the last day of summer to an auntie she’s never met for a toy she’s already got.
It all seems so begrudging. I can’t help feeling that, were I in her position, the day would have been much less anti-climactic. In fact, I know it would, because my plans have been decades in the making. Oh, sure, other kids might have daydreamed about curing cancer or scoring the winning goal in the FA Cup final, but I was always too preoccupied with the idea of being an elderly and out-of-touch sovereign, sitting among the ashes of my ruined kingdom and curdling in my long-demolished sense of ambition.It all seems so begrudging. I can’t help feeling that, were I in her position, the day would have been much less anti-climactic. In fact, I know it would, because my plans have been decades in the making. Oh, sure, other kids might have daydreamed about curing cancer or scoring the winning goal in the FA Cup final, but I was always too preoccupied with the idea of being an elderly and out-of-touch sovereign, sitting among the ashes of my ruined kingdom and curdling in my long-demolished sense of ambition.
So here’s what I’d do. I like this train station idea, but only so long as I could end my speech by pressing a button that made the station split in half, revealing a bank of ultra-futuristic long-range missiles targeted directly at the Gambia. “This is what you get for leaving the Commonwealth,” I’d yell, before wiping it clean off the face of the Earth forever. Then – pausing only to karate-chop Nicholas Witchell in the mouth – I’d hop on a bejewelled Segway, ride to Leicester, dig up the bones of Richard III and scream the word “lightweight” at them until I was exhausted. So here’s what I’d do. I like this train station idea, but only so long as I could end my speech by pressing a button that made the station split in half, revealing a bank of ultra-futuristic long-range missiles targeted directly at the Gambia. “This is what you get for leaving the Commonwealth,” I’d yell, before wiping it clean off the face of the Earth forever. Then – pausing only to karate-chop Nicholas Witchell in the mouth – I’d hop on a bejewelled Segway, ride to Leicester, dig up the bones of Richard III again and scream the word “lightweight” at them until I was exhausted.
After that, I’d officially move to rename Victoria Park, Victoria Station, the Royal Victoria Dock, Victoria Embankment and the smouldering remains of the Gambia’s Royal Victoria teaching hospital after myself, order the execution of an arbitrarily chosen family on unexplained treason charges and go to bed while a team of scientists went about replacing bits of my body with robot parts, allowing me to remain king forever. Oh, and I’d make it illegal for all doorbells, ringtones, microwave bleeps and medical alarms to make any noise that wasn’t the sound of my own demented cackle. But, then again, we’d all do this because, unlike the Queen, we have a functioning sense of occasion.After that, I’d officially move to rename Victoria Park, Victoria Station, the Royal Victoria Dock, Victoria Embankment and the smouldering remains of the Gambia’s Royal Victoria teaching hospital after myself, order the execution of an arbitrarily chosen family on unexplained treason charges and go to bed while a team of scientists went about replacing bits of my body with robot parts, allowing me to remain king forever. Oh, and I’d make it illegal for all doorbells, ringtones, microwave bleeps and medical alarms to make any noise that wasn’t the sound of my own demented cackle. But, then again, we’d all do this because, unlike the Queen, we have a functioning sense of occasion.
However, to be fair to Her Majesty, I do understand why she’s keen to keep this one on the down-low. Perhaps she wants to use it as an opportunity to privately meditate on the place that a largely toothless monarchy should occupy in the world, or to quietly ponder the fortunes of all the relatives she’s managed to outlive.However, to be fair to Her Majesty, I do understand why she’s keen to keep this one on the down-low. Perhaps she wants to use it as an opportunity to privately meditate on the place that a largely toothless monarchy should occupy in the world, or to quietly ponder the fortunes of all the relatives she’s managed to outlive.
Maybe it’s for the best. After all, if she’d decided to make a whole thing of it, it’d inevitably mean opening up Buckingham Palace for another tedious quasi Live Aid-style concert that the BBC would feel duty-bound to broadcast, and Paul McCartney would end the poxy thing by performing another protracted version of Hey Jude that stretched out for such an inordinately vast amount of time that the prevailing sentiment of the assembled partygoers would slowly graduate from God Save the Queen to Ow My Lumbar Hurts Let’s Immediately Disassemble The Royal Family So This Can Never Happen Again.Maybe it’s for the best. After all, if she’d decided to make a whole thing of it, it’d inevitably mean opening up Buckingham Palace for another tedious quasi Live Aid-style concert that the BBC would feel duty-bound to broadcast, and Paul McCartney would end the poxy thing by performing another protracted version of Hey Jude that stretched out for such an inordinately vast amount of time that the prevailing sentiment of the assembled partygoers would slowly graduate from God Save the Queen to Ow My Lumbar Hurts Let’s Immediately Disassemble The Royal Family So This Can Never Happen Again.
Anyway, the Queen clearly isn’t a fan of public celebration. Witness her expression during the Olympic opening ceremony – permanently stuck between “I don’t think I shut the freezer door properly before we left” and “I am literally passing an actual kidney stone” – if you want proof. And, really, who can blame her? In Kate Williams’s Observer article this weekend, it was mentioned that people dressed up as televisions to celebrate her coronation in 1953. They actually dressed up as televisions. Imagine looking out across a country that you’d just been put in charge of, and seeing thousands of clueless dolts dressed up as the device that would one day allow them to watch Life on Marbs. It’d be enough to put you off people for life. Anyway, the Queen clearly isn’t a fan of public celebration. Witness her expression during the Olympic opening ceremony – permanently stuck between “I don’t think I shut the freezer door properly before we left” and “I am literally passing an actual kidney stone” – if you want proof. And, really, who can blame her? In historian Kate Williams’s Observer article this weekend, it was mentioned that people dressed up as televisions to celebrate her coronation in 1953. They actually dressed up as televisions. Imagine looking out across a country that you’d just been put in charge of, and seeing thousands of clueless dolts dressed up as the device that would one day allow them to watch Life on Marbs. It’d be enough to put you off people for life.
Perhaps, in fact, this is why the Queen has been so reluctant to abdicate – it’s not that she enjoys the power, but because she can’t bear to see the crestfallen look on Charles’s face when his coronation gets ruined by the sight of dozens of clowns bopping about in Amazon drone outfits.Perhaps, in fact, this is why the Queen has been so reluctant to abdicate – it’s not that she enjoys the power, but because she can’t bear to see the crestfallen look on Charles’s face when his coronation gets ruined by the sight of dozens of clowns bopping about in Amazon drone outfits.
So let’s allow the Queen to let this moment pass uncelebrated. She’s earned the right to do whatever she likes. However, that doesn’t mean she can’t do a little something for her subjects, to prove that she still loves us. And by that I mean giving us all a day off. That’s the only reason anyone likes her anyway, because sometimes she gives us all the day off. That’s all we ask of you, your majesty. Give us the day off on Wednesday. Karate-chop Nicholas Witchell in the mouth if you want, too, but, to be honest, we’d just take the day off.So let’s allow the Queen to let this moment pass uncelebrated. She’s earned the right to do whatever she likes. However, that doesn’t mean she can’t do a little something for her subjects, to prove that she still loves us. And by that I mean giving us all a day off. That’s the only reason anyone likes her anyway, because sometimes she gives us all the day off. That’s all we ask of you, your majesty. Give us the day off on Wednesday. Karate-chop Nicholas Witchell in the mouth if you want, too, but, to be honest, we’d just take the day off.