God Save the Queen and forget, for today, about the refugees...

Guess what. Syrian people are dying in their country. They are dying escaping their country. Afghans, Libyans, Iraqi's, Eritreans, Palestinians' and many more oppressed and impoverished people are being bombed, shot, starved and drowned for our addictions. To ensure our homes are fashionably shabby chic and our cars can drive us 500 yards to our local store. Children, women and men are being exploited for their labour and bodies across the world to feed our need for cheap tee shirts and pornography. And the BBC reminds us our betters get millions of our pounds to be fed, clothed, housed and be worshipped.




Royalty need your brain space today. Not your guilt in allowing poor people die for your lifestyle. Royalty ensure you know your place in humanity. Helpless, scraping by and forced to consume. Well done, Mrs Windsor. You've done your job today, again in a "working life" of "just being there" to spend our money and practising fashionable hand waving technique (the 1930's one your mum enjoyed haunting you a few weeks ago). Reigning really must be a hard job. And your life, of course, is one much better celebrated and concentrated on than those who have sailed, walked, struggled out of bomb pits and away from flesh tearing exploding white hot metal, blinding gas, torture and obliteration into tented cities of disease and searingly hot, unsanitary despair.




Long may you reign over us so the BBC can divert us from our guilt in children ripped apart by our liberating drones. Long may you grace us with your tax avoidance and "remarkable record" of accepting ours. Keep up the good work in shooting wildlife and in keeping your "malicious wit" private. Your constant presence on my telly has ensured I've forgotten the wee boy washed lifeless onto the pristine holiday beach, and the other children smashed, abused and ripped apart by British interests abroad.


Thanks for your help, mam.

The Queen perfecting the wave she became so loved for.