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From the British satirical magazine PRIVATE EYE, 8 pages of covers and cartoons, published in 2012 for the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II. An affectionate look back. 

Delivered as an e-file for just two bucks. Click here to buy. Tell `em Walt sent ya!

This week, everything happened at once, Part 1

Finding topics for WWW is like waiting for the streetcar. [They have streetcards in Fort Mudge? Ed.] You wait for hours, then three of them come along at once. In August there was nothing, but in this first week of September I couldn't keep up with reading, let alone writing.

Farewell Liz. We hardly knew ye.

On Thursday, Elizabeth II, Queen of Great Britain, Northern Ireland, and all her other realms and territories, "passed". It's a symptom of the sickness of our society, of our fear of death and the afterlife, that we no longer say someone "passed away", let alone "died". People just "pass", like ships in the night.

It's hard to be snarky about Elizabeth. I am old enough to remember the death of her father, King George VI, and her coronation in 1953. Since then, she was just... there.

She was a rock, keeping calm and carrying on, with that British stiff upper lip, in spite of the turmoil caused by her dysfunctional children and grandchildren, and the problems of not-so-great Britain and the moribund Commonwealth.

The leftist press in the UK and Canada have trotted out a rainbow parade of oppressed indigenous peoples -- Jamaicans in Britain, First Nations in Canada -- to complain of the evils of slavery and colonialism. Never mind that slavery was abolished in the British empire before Queen Victoria (Elizabeth's grandmother) ascended to the throne, or that most of the colonies became more or less independent at least six decades ago. The POCs are still victims, demanding compensation for the abuse of their ancestors.

The one colony which has yet to gain its independence, whose people are still suffering under the yoke of the British, is Northern Ireland. Irish patriots killed Elizabeth's uncle, Lord Louis Mountbatten, but the stubborn English persist in trying to prevent the reunion of Ulster with the Republic. Sinn Féin say they will "work with" the new king, Charles III, to resolve the impasse, but I say, don't stay tuned.

Footnote: The Queen's last official act, on Tuesday, was to swear in Liz (no relation) Truss as the new prime minister of the Disunited Kingdom. By all accounts, Ms Truss is as woke as they come, a champion of diversity, inclusion, the European Union and the New World Order. She will get along very well with Charles, king of the tree-huggers, who is actually a member of the WEF and a regular attender at Davos. Don't looks for either of them to try to Make Britain Great Again. 

Worth viewing: "Africa is not poor because of colonization" - Dr. Jordan B Peterson and Magatte Wade discuss how economic freedom dictates the success potential of countries, and how Africa's fixation on colonialism, rather than incompetence and corruption, being the cause of their modern day struggles, locks the continent into abject poverty.

"If I don't respond, is that a sin, Father?"

I see Eliabeth II, Queen of Great Britain, Northern Ireland etc, surived this weekend's celebration of the 70th anniversary of her accession to the throne. She made a three-minute curtain call on the balcony of Buck House yesterday, accompanied by Prince Charlie, the Duchess of Marlborough, Will and Kate and their sprogs.

Video clips seen over the weekend show the Royal Family and everyone else singing "God save the Queen". This is a venerable tune, written centuries ago by George Frideric Handel, which Americans might recognize as "My country, `tis of thee". It has served as the national anthem of the Disunited Kingdom and numerous countries, and is still the "royal anthem" in Canada and some other Commonwealth countries.

As I watched Charlie singing, I couldn't help but wonder if he means it. Perhaps he fears that his "mummy" (he called her that when speaking at St Paul's the day before) is going to live forever and he'll never get to be King Charles III. Don't worry kid. From the looks of things, "Brenda" is unlikely to make it to the 70th anniversary of her coronation, 2 June 2023. (Lifetime pct .983.) Eventually Prince William will be singing "God save the King" for you... with equal sincerity I'm sure.

A custom that Americans are spared [thank goodness! Ed.] is the obligatory toast to the Queen which precedes any formal dinner, in the same countries where "God save the Queen" is sung. (In Canada, when the MC says "Charge your glasses!", they fill `em with water! Shocking!)

The MC says, in a loud and solemn voice, "The Queen", and all present are supposed to respond, "The Queen", after which people who have served in a royal regiment may add, "God bless `er!" It's all terribly anachronistic and phony, and I wouldn't be surprised to leaern that in Northern Ireland there are many who refuse to make the appropriate response, if indeed the toast is offered at all.

Following this line of thought, [How much longer? Ed.], we have something foisted on Catholic worshippers by Hannibal Bugnini and the other Protestants and Freemasons responsible for the "improved" New Mass. I refer to the "Prayers of the Faithful" (derived from the Anglican "bidding prayers"), stuck in between the Creed and the Canon. 

These prayers can go on for quite some time, depending on the wokeness of whoever writes them, since the people are enjoined to pray for "those who rule over us" -- the Pope, the bishops, the Queen, the government, the authorities, yada yada yada -- and whichever people and whatever causes are in fashion on the day, e.g. refugees, social justice, rain, more yada yada yada. 

The usual format is to name the person or thing being prayed for, then say the layperson reading the prayers (they're prayers of the faithful, you see) says "We pray to the Lord", in whichever language is being used (but no Latin), and the faithful are supposed to respond "Lord, hear our prayer."

My question, as a traditional Catholic, and someone with a rather low regard for "those who rule over us", is: what if I don't respond? What if I don't feel like praying for this Pope, or for the police, or for asylum-seekers? Is it a sin not to respond? (Do we even have "sins" any more?) Will I go to hell, would it just be a venial sin? [Wozzat? Ed.]

And one more thing. Signore Bugnini and the other anti-Catholics who the Vatican put in charge of "reforming" the Mass told us it was important that people should be more involved, and should participate more in the ritual. No more going to hear Mass, as in the bad old days before 1963.

The worst manifestation (IMHO) of this desire that the people should do something is the so-called "Rite of Peace", which now follows the Our Father just before communion. Before we receive Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist, we are supposed to take a couple of minutes and exchange a sign of peace with our neighbours, just the same as the Pentecostals do.

It could have been worse. The original plan was for it to have been a kiss of peace, which the celebrant was supposed to share with the deacons and altar servers and laypeople participating in the ceremonies. It turned out some of the priests were enjoying that a bit too much, so the instruction was amended to "a handshake or other suitable gesture."

Even that got out of hand [no puns, please. Ed.] as the new woke priests actually came down from behind (not in front of) the altar and started wandering up and down the aisles shaking hands with everyone within reach. So also, worshippers were encouraged to shake hands with those beside them, behind them, in front of them, up in the choir loft, etc. It became a bit difficult to get everyone settled down and back into reverent mode.

One silver lining in the cloud of the Wuhan flu was that "social distancing" put a temporary end to the shaking of hands, because most people's arms were too short. Fist- and elbow-bumps wouldn't work either. But, lest they be accused of reverting to pre-Vatican II norms, most dioceses kept the "Rite of Peace", substituting a nod for a handshake. So people kind of wobbled at each other, while some flashed the "peace sign", a secular humanist gesture from the hippy-dippy `60s. 

Now that things have loosened up, people attending Novus Ordo services don't know exactly what they should do during this interruption to what should be the most solemn part of the Mass. My question would be: What if I don't feel like doing anything? 

I'm not a very sociable guy to begin with [the word "hermit" comes to mind. Ed.], but to me, going to Mass is not a social occasion, a cheery community get-together where we all join hands and sing "Kumbaya". It is, or should be, just me and the priest and God. What if I refuse to acknowledge the presence of others? Is that a sin, Father? &c, as above.

Walt is away

Ed. here. About 24 hours ago, Walt told me he was going to London, and I assumed he meant London, for the Grand Hoohah celebrating the 70th anniversary of the ascension of Queen Elizabeth II to the throne of Not-so-Great Britain, now known as the Disunited Kingdom. Her Imperial Majesty's Platinum Jubilee is being celebrated even as we speak. 

I'll give the Brits credit for one thing. They sure know how do to up a military marchpast. And the old girl tottered out onto the balcony of Buck House, along with her eldest boy, a real Charlie for sure, to take the salute. So we say: good on yer, Liz! We Wish you 70 more!

But I digest. Apparently Walt meant the London in Canada, not the real one. He got a deep discouont fare with City Airlines, and then this happened 

 

I'll explain the reason for Walt's trip in our next post.

Queen Elizabeth: lost without Prince Philip (1963 version)

As noted earlier today, I've been looking through some back issues of the British satirical magazine Private Eye, which I read assiduously for decades after discovering it on a visit to Not-so-great Britain in 1963. This is the cover from one of the early issues (No. 41) which I brought home with me.

 

On the cover date, 12 July 1963, I was en route to France to be there for Bastille Day on the 14th. Apparently I missed a spot of local (?) trouble, viz. the visit to London Her Majesty Queen Frederika of Greece. Born Frederica of Hanover (Friederike Luise Thyra Victoria Margarita Sophia Olga Cecilia Isabella Christa), she was Queen consort of Greece from 1947 until 1964 as the wife of King Paul. 

Her visit to the UK caused some little fuss because, according according to Wikipedia, Queen Frederika was thought to be "inherently undemocratic". [Imagine a queen being undemocratic! Ed.] She was "notorious for her numerous arbitrary and unconstitutional interventions in Greek politics and clashes with democratically elected governments.... 

"At home in Greece and abroad in the United Kingdom, she was targeted by the opposition. In 1963 while visiting London, rioting by Greek leftists demonstrating against the situation with the political prisoners of the Greek civil war, forced her to temporarily seek refuge in a stranger's house." I'm not sure if that's a reference to Buckingham Palace, but that's the story behind the Eye cover. 

So farewell then, Prince Philip

His Royal Highness Prince Philip, consort of Her Britannic Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, died this morning, surrounded by most of his family -- you know who wasn't there -- at Windsor Castle.

Affectionately (?) dubbed "Phil the Greek" by the British satirical newspaper Private Eye, Prince Philip was actually part of a very large German-British royal family, the Battenbergs, who members sat on the thrones of Russia, Germany, Greece and Great Britain at various times in the 20th century.

Philip, Prince of Greece and Denmark, the son of Princess Alice of Battenberg and grandson of the 1st Marquess of Milford Haven, took the name Mountbatten when he became a naturalised British subject on his marriage to Princess Elizabeth in 1947.

Philip became the longest-living royal consort in British history, surpassing Queen Caroline, the wife of George III. He spent 74 years supporting his wife in a role that both defined and constricted his life. He died just two months short of his 100th birthday.

Walt didn't know Prince Philip personally, [Really?! Ed.] but was inclined to like him for being politically incorrect, and by all account not suffering fools gladly. His dislike for Crown Prince Charles was fodder for "Heir of Sorrow", a parody of a Mills & Boon bodice-ripper which appeared regularly in Private Eye. One can only imagine what he thought of Prince Harry and the Princess of Woke.

The Prince was known to be "irascible and tough-minded", not afraid to call a spade a spade. He is said to have told a British diplomat posted to Hong Kong not to stay there too long "or you'll become all slitty-eyed like them." And on viewing a rat's nest of wires on a tour of a factory in India, he remarked, "Must have been done by a local electrician." 

In the 21st century, saying those kinds of things makes one politically incorrect, and obituaries are being published even as I write describing the late Prince as "racist" and "sexist". I don't think he would care. Here's a photo, posted on WWW years ago, which we think pretty much sums up Prince Philip's view of himself and his place in the overall scheme of things.

What is the reason for the enigmatic smile on his face...and the priceless expressions on the faces of the others, especially Prince Harry? Did Prince Philip fart? Seems like he didn't take himself too seriously, and Walt says, "Good on yer, Phil! RIP."

Rush Limbaugh, RIP... plus: death watch

In Rush Limbaugh: An Army of One, (((Zev Chafets))) quotes Rush Limbaugh as saying, "In my heart and soul, I know I have become the intellectual engine of the conservative movement." Walt would agree. Mr Limbaugh was a powerful influencer -- an inspiration, in fact -- as well as a voice for millions of conservatives, libertarians, fundamentalists, nationalists, populists and others on the right. His death from lung cancer was reported by his family yesterday. RIP.

Mr Limbaugh first announced his diagnosis a year ago, saying he would take time off for medical tests and to determine treatment. He said he intended to continue to work as much as possible, as well as focus on what he called his "deeply personal relationship" with God. A day after he announced his diagnosis, during the State of the Union address,President Trump awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

I have a feeling that next year's posts on People Who Left Us in 2021 will be voluminous. Britain's Prince Phillip entered the hospital yesterday (under his own steam, apparently) "for observation". He is 99. His better half, HRH Queen Elizabath II, will turn 95 in April.

April will also see the 94th birthday of Joseph Alois Ratzinger, aka Benedict XVI, sometime Pope of Rome. If he dies, the Roman Catholic Church will be left with only one pretender to the Chair of Peter.

And then there's Hazel McCallion, longtime mayor of Mississauga ON, who turned 100 on St. Valentine's Day. Walt wishes "Hurricane Hazel" many more years!

UPDATED: Anus horribilis 2020: So farewell then....

Ed. here. 2020 is almost over, thank God, truly an Annus Horribilis if ever there was one. (I know my Latin but Walt insists on leaving the headline as he wrote it.) We continue now with our yearend review, saying farewell to some people we liked who have shuffled off this mortal coil, and will be missed....

Before we get to that, let's start with three on whose death you might want to make book on for 2021. 

HRH Elizabeth II, Queen of Great Britain, Ireland [really? Ed.] and her other realms and territories, on the left in the photo, will be 95 next April. Some think she is taking ibogaine or something to keep from dying just to spite her jug-eared son Charles, Prince of Wales, from becoming king, and his second wife Camilla "forever a duchess".

You can probably get 5-2 on Elizabeth, shorter on her seldom seen husband, Phil the Greek. 10-1 on Charles. 

Also rumoured to be still alive (although not seen in public recently) is Sleepy Joe Biden. To those who call him "President-Elect", Walt says "Not yet!"

The Democrats and other never-Trumpers who are breathed a shallow sigh of relief when, in the week hours of November 4th, Mr Biden emerged from his Delaware hideout to say that he was confident that before dawn enough votes would be found to elect him. And so they were. 

Then came the challenges, and now the fear is that he will die before he can be sworn in. Better for everyone, the lefties say, if he makes it through the inauguration ceremony, and then succumbs to a heart attack or other "natural cause" [like falling up the stairs from his basement? Ed.], leaving the Oval Office to that well-known Indo-Jamaican, Kamala Harris. 

Odds on Joe pegging out before January 20th are 20-1. Thereafter, 5-1.

Another world leader ["One World", shurely. Ed.] still in the land of the living is Jorge Bergoglio, aka Francis, Pope of Rome. At the beginning of his possibly illegitimate papacy, the Humblest Pope Since Saint Peter (TM) said that he expected his reign to be a short one. That was nearly 17 years ago.

Traditional Catholics, who believe that Jorge-Francis religiously says three stupid things every morning before breakfast, are hereby reminded that it is a sin to pray for the death of a pope, or anyone for that matter. Praying for God's will to be done is, of course, another matter!

And we can pray always that Saint Michael the Archangel will defend us in the day of battle, and by the power of  Almighty God cast into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Further viewing, added 29/12/20: "Will Pope Francis resign? Dr Taylor Marshall responds to the rumour"

Ed. here. Walt seems to have lost sight of the theme of this post, which was supposed to be, errr, obituaries of people we liked. Check in again tomorrow.

Silence is golden

Rarely heard, and even more rarely seen, Agent 21 sends us this little story from the Antipodes. [How can you be against podes? Ed.]

As Air Force One arrives at Heathrow Airport, President Obama descends to a warm and dignified reception from the Queen.

They are driven in a 1934 Bentley to the edge of central London, where they change to a magnificent 17th-century carriage hitched to six white horses. They continue on towards Buckingham Palace, waving to thousands of cheering Britons. All is going well.

Suddenly, the right rear horse lets out the most horrendous earth-shattering fart ever heard in the British Commonwealth. The smell is so atrocious that both passengers in the royal landau must use handkerchiefs to cover their noses. The fart shakes the coach, but the two heads of state do their best to ignore the incident.

The Queen politely turns to President Obama and says, "Mr President, please, accept my regrets. I am sure you understand there are some things that even a Queen cannot control."

Obama, always trying to be "presidential," responds, "Your Majesty, plese don't give the matter another thought. Until you mentioned it, I honestly thought it was one of the horses."

Moral of the story: SILENCE IS GOLDEN.