Too soon?
Charles has already said he isn’t going to have a hands-off approach to current events like his mother did. He intends to be an activist king, and Net Zero is his passion.
This is very bad news for the monarchy, though he clearly doesn’t know it yet. It’s on shaky ground with a lot of people as it is.
Can you imagine a whole country huddling in the dark in the cold eating bugs while a man in a jeweled hat sitting on a gold chair in a marble palace harangues them for their selfishness?
May 9, 2023 — 6:01 pm
Comments: 9
Ominous
In case you missed it, the Grim Reaper walked past the doorway during the coronation Saturday. I haven’t read an official explanation, but it’s surely a non-ghostly member of the cathedral staff who put his hood up at an inopportune moment.
Yes, I watched. I wasn’t going to, but my cousin from Alabama called to tell me she got up at 4am to watch (who knew I had a monarchist in the family?) and that shamed me into it.
I was astonished at how much Jesus there was in the ceremony. So many prayers. If I had to guess, I’d say most of the sermonizing was from the Reformation – all that emphasis on upholding Protestantism.
Penny Mordaunt held that sword straight up for two freaking hours and looked good doing it. Mad respect. It’s a shame she’s a WEF stooge.
Anyway, it was a heck of a spectacle and I’m glad I watched. Brits do spectacle. I had hoped to find pictures of the Barons of the Cinque Ports at the do, just to round the week out, but nobody’s published any yet.
Tomorrow – back to work!
May 8, 2023 — 7:01 pm
Comments: 7
The barons are back, baby!
Annnnd it’s Friday. Lord help you people if someone died because I ain’t doing a Dead Pool until I’m back.
Zo! If they don’t sit at the monarch’s right hand at dinner and they don’t carry a canopy, is there any point inviting the Barons of the Cinque Ports to the coronation? Victoria didn’t think so, so she didn’t.
The Barons yelped like scalded hounds. When the old gal popped her clogs at last, the Mayor of Rye brought their grievance to the Court of Claims. Which is, believe it or not, a special court that decides who gets to do what at a coronation.
The court ruled somewhat in their favor – they had a right to attend but they don’t get to do anything. So, yes, the Barons of the Cinque Ports will be there tomorrow. The barons will all be the mayors, looks like. They’re pretty ordinary men and women nowadays – we’ve chatted with some of them at village fêtes – but they do have spiffy costumes for special occasions.
I doubt we’ll watch the coronation live, but we’ll probably watch the recap. Modern Brits are awfully good at pulling off this pageantry stuff (I say modern Brits – if you followed any of the links to coronations past, there were plenty of screwups).
p.s. Astonished to see someone has published a series of bodice-rippers feature the Barons of the Cinque Ports.
May 5, 2023 — 3:00 pm
Comments: 5
Silver gilt bells and a horse’s ass
The canopy that the Barons of the Cinque Ports held over the monarch was cloth of gold with little silver gilt bells, held aloft on spears or staves. At Henry VIII’s coronation, the canopy was reportedly held over him while he rode a horse, so it had to be pretty tall.
The Barons took the canopy home as a payment, sometimes taking it in turns and sometimes selling it and splitting the money. Bits of various canopies and Baron costumes survive in local museums.
The silver gilt cup above is in the V&A and was made of recycled canopy bells used during the coronation of James II in 1685. Two Barons (from the same family) pooled their share to make it.
At the coronation of Charles II in 1661, the Barons were attacked by the king’s footmen as soon as they were done escorting the king. The footmen dragged the Barons down the hall and almost into the street, hoping to pinch the canopy. The Barons prevailed, but while they were fighting, others snuck in and took their seats at the dinner table and ‘the poor barons’, per Samuel Pepys, ‘naturally unwilling to lose their dinner, were necessitated to eat it at the bottom of the second table below the Masters in Chancery and others of the long robe!’
At the coronation of George III, William Talbot the Lord Steward (responsible for organizing the business) didn’t set aside tables for the Barons. An argument ensued that only ended when Talbot (a pugnacious man) threatened them with a duel.
Incidentally, Talbot presided over the banquet on horseback. He went to a lot of trouble to teach his horse to walk backwards away from the thrones. Which went splendidly, but the horse kept walking back into the hall backwards, presenting his ass to the king. The crowd hooted.
George IV was the last monarch to walk to the banquet under the Cinque Ports canopy. He decided to walk in front of the canopy for some reason, the barons struggled to overtake him, and the whole procession hobbled down the road at an undignified jog-trot. I have read elsewhere that alcohol may have been involved.
May 4, 2023 — 3:00 pm
Comments: 4
Bloodwit and infangthief
So what did the people of the Cinque Ports get in return for their annual shiplending? A pretty sweet deal, in fact. Here it is in the original Anglo Saxon legal speak:
(tallage is usually property taxes)
(jurisdiction over criminal and civil cases, from the Anglo Saxon soke)
(authority over the sale and movement of cattle)
(authority to punish those who shed blood or do a runner)
(authority to punish social ne’er-do-wells)
(authority to imprison or execute thieves and felons)
(the right to build sea defenses on private land)
(finders keepers)
(the right to appropriate stuff that leaks from ships)
All freemen of the towns had the right to call themselves Barons of the Cinque Ports, but in practical terms the Barons were those appointed by the various mayors and councils to attend a coronation.
The Barons of the Cinque Ports had the right, from time immemorial, to hold a canopy over the head of the king as he processed to his coronation and thereafter to dine with him at his right hand (though at the coronation of William and Mary in 1689, they were refused this seating arrangement and never got it back).
“Aha!” sez you, “now I know what gives!”
Uncle B informs me that time immemorial is an actual date in English law: 1189 AD. Anything before that is time immemorial, a matter of tradition, anything after that is assumed to be written down and attributable to somebody.
May 3, 2023 — 3:00 pm
Comments: 6
Let us talk about the Cinque Ports
The Cinque Ports are a confederation of towns along the Southeast coast of England, mostly in Sussex and Kent. As an official body, they pre-date the Norman Conquest and are mentioned in the Domesday Book (though not by name) and (by name) in the Magna Carta. It’s super old is what I’m saying.
Their original purpose was to provide ships to the king – between them they were to provide X number of ships for X days in service to the crown every year. They bill themselves the Cradle of the Royal Navy.
Everyone from the Corded Ware People to William the Conquerer to Napoleon to Hitler has tried to enter Britain from this area closest to the continent, so it makes sense to keep it on a warlike footing.
The original Cinque Ports (West to East) were Hastings, New Romney, Hythe, Dover and Sandwich. In the Twelfth Century, they wanted to add the towns of Winchelsea and Rye, but that would really mess up the name. So those two aren’t called Ports, they’re called Ancient Towns, sometimes spelled Antient. It’s that way on some of the signposts. Which is very cool.
Then the Ports and Ancient Towns wanted to include some of their neighboring towns, so those became Limbs or Members. At its biggest, there 40 towns in the whole organisation. Today there are 14 towns in the Confederation of Cinque Ports, and we don’t actually live in one.
By the way, it’s pronounced SINK, not SANK as the French would have it, because screw the French is why.
May 2, 2023 — 3:00 pm
Comments: 10
Lookit this!
This message popped up on my phone well over a week before my actual birthday. What’s sinister about that is that I never give the internet my real birthday – my internet birthday is April 1. So how did Google Assistant get the real one?
I worry about the growing pervasiveness of Google. The number of times lately I’ve bought something online from some little podunk shop and they send a confirmation number undbidden to my cellphone, which I didn’t give them.
Oh! Why yes, my birthday is a-coming. I’m taking the week off to observe it. I’ll be around – I’m hoping the weather will be nice and I can potter around the garden all week – but I will auto-queue some posts so I don’t have to exercise my little braincell.
Bonus! I get next Monday off to celebrate Charlie’s becrowning.
May 1, 2023 — 4:00 pm
Comments: 22
Dead Pool Round 165: Weasel’s birfday edition
Mrs Carl has taken the Dead Pool with Barry Humphries, better known as Dame Edna Everage.
“Originally conceived as a dowdy Moonee Ponds housewife who caricatured Australian suburban complacency and insularity, Dame Edna Everage evolved over four decades to become a satire of stardom – a gaudily dressed, acid-tongued, egomaniacal, internationally fêted “Housewife Gigastar”.” Wikipedia.
Huh. Well.
The Carls practice the Dead Pool strategy of keeping your powder dry while waiting for a celebrity to get sick. It isn’t a surefire gambit: you have to luck onto someone who is famous enough to count but not so old and famous as to have been picked in the ordinary way. AND they have to give you room between getting sick (or hit by a car) and dying.
Are we all assembled? Then leave us go.
0. Rule Zero (AKA Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody whose execution date is circled on the calendar. Also, please don’t kill anybody. Plus (Pupster’s Rule) no picking someone who’s only famous for being the oldest person alive.
1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).
2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.
3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.
4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay? Also, make sure you have a correct spelling of your choice somewhere in your comment. These threads get longish and I use search to figure out if we have a winner.
5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.
6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.
7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you’ve won before, send me your address again. I don’t keep good records.
8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.
The winner, if the winner chooses to entrust me with a mailing address, will receive an Official Certificate of Dick Winning and a small original drawing on paper suffused with elephant shit particles. Because I’m fresh out of fairy shit particles.
April 28, 2023 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 65
Welp, here we go…
That’s…$1,660.23. Ouch.
Next step, some time in late May I hop a train to Maidstone with my documentation and have my dabs taken (that’s English cop slang for fingerprints). All the alternatives were in London, so whatevs.
After that, a ceremony. Closer to home, I hope. I will have to swear an Oath of Allegiance, an Affirmation of Allegiance and a Pledge. The first two are to the Crown, which chaps my ass because I take my word seriously.
“At the end of the ceremony you’ll be presented with your certificate of British citizenship and a welcome pack.”
A welcome pack. I do hope there’s a little Union Jack in it.
p.s. New Dead Pool tomorrow. Harry Belafonte fans and Jerry Springer pickers hardest hit.
April 27, 2023 — 6:27 pm
Comments: 12
This tiny green strawberry
Found in a punnet of strawberries. Uncle B was excited to find them this early in the year, but they were…not very good.
I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’ve heard from every seated Republican politician in the last couple of weeks, including several from Ted Cruz and one from Lindsey Fucking Graham.
Why now? And why me? I think I maybe gave ten bucks to Sarah Palin a thousand years ago, and haven’t heard much since. How did they all bust out the same mailing list allofa sudden?
Who writes their begging letters? They’re just awful. I’m sure they must hire people who know how to get results, but at what cost.
Lindsey called me Friend (capital F) and patriot and asked me to pray for our country. Oh, and money. He definitely asked for money.
I feel soiled.
April 26, 2023 — 7:12 pm
Comments: 10