Queen Elizabeth is okay in my books. Okay. That’s it.
She’s not particularly good — as in Good Queen Bess — and she’s certainly not great — as in Great Britain.
She’s a survivor and she’s going to leave the family business in fairly good shape for whichever inbred Windsor/Saxe-Coburg-Gotha offspring inherits the throne (probably King Charles III, but who knows … stranger things have happened in the creepy world of British royalty).
As for Elizabeth, she’s never done me wrong in her 60-year reign. But, based on her genetic disposition and the past track record of her family, I have absolutely no doubt that she would — if she had the power to.
Fortunately, she and her ilk no longer have the power that once allowed them to rob, pillage, rape, torture and murder at their pleasure.
As for “moral” authority, give me a break. This is a woman who married her cousin (on both his mother’s and father’s side), whose sister-in-laws were both married to Nazi sympathizers, whose uncle fawned on Adolf Hitler, and whose grandson thought it was a good idea to go to a costume party dressed in a Nazi uniform. Sip your sherry, Madge, and don’t lecture me.
No, the Royal Family is left with only one power — the power to amuse us.
That’s now their job — and a job for which they’re very well paid.
Sometimes, usually when Charles the Befuddled gets on his high horse, they appear not to understand the arrangement.
But most of the time the Royals play by the rules:
They dress up in funny clothes and prance about. They make Monty Python upper-class-English-twit skits seem ho-hum. They discover new ways to experience sexual embarrassment in the most public ways.
There are exceptions: William and Kate are currently basking in a golden glow of general approbation. But that’s just a passing phase. I guarantee you that William and/or Kate will be laughingstocks and/or villains before I die. It’s not their fault — it’s just their royal destiny.
On the flip side of the coin, Queen Elizabeth is the richest woman in the world. Prince Charles is one of the wealthiest idiots in the world. And we all go ga-ga when they walk down the street.
But what, exactly, do they do to warrant this?
No moral power. No power of life and death. No extraordinary talent or ability. No actual contribution of any kind to the greater well-being of humankind (Charles III’s organic beer-making aside).
No, the only power they have is the power to amuse us, to entertain us, to distract us from our own miserable lives with their more majestic misery and misadventures.
It’s part of the deal. It comes with the territory.
So over the next few days I will uncover some of the Royal Family’s more entertaining sex secrets for your prurient pleasure. What better way to appropriately honour Queen Elizabeth’s Diamond Jubilee?
And I really don’t care if Queen Victoria is not amused. I am.
P.S. Silly me — of course you need a sex secret to start this whole thing off. It’s sort of sad, but then most sex secrets are. The old woman pictured at the top of this blog post is Princess Marie Louise, one of many granddaughters of Queen Victoria. Marie Louise — with Kaiser Wilhelm as the matchmaker — was married off to a minor German princling who happened to be gay. Nothing wrong with that, except he shouldn’t have married a woman. The princling’s father found his son in bed with one of his manservants while Marie Louise was off touring Canada. Dad went mad — fortunately he didn’t kill anyone — and had the marriage annulled. On Marie Louise’s return to England, her uncle, the newly minted King Edward VII, summed up the situation thusly: “Ach, poor Louise, she has returned as she went — a virgin.” Marie Louise spent the rest of her life grieving her unconsummated, unresolved marriage (although her diary suggests she found her purported husband repulsive) and threw herself into charitable work back in Britain — specifically patronizing young Boy Scouts. Hmmm. By the way, Marie Louise was one of only two members of the Royal Family who refused to give up their German titles when the British Royals were trying to scrub their German heritage out of the public memory during World War I. None of this matters, really. I just like the neurotic decadence of the photo and wanted to use it.