BRIAN READE:
THERE’S a lot of anger flying around right now that seems to be aimed at the wrong targets.
Captain Tom Moore being trolled for going on one final holiday before he died. Yeah, the selfish waster should have stayed in his back garden and done his bit for the NHS, shouldn’t he?
People outraged that jailbirds Gary Glitter and Rose West have been offered the Covid vaccine before they have. So, presumably they wouldn’t care if a prison visitor caught Covid and died, leaving loved ones wondering if they were killed by a paedophile or a serial murderer?
And then there’s the self-righteous fury heading towards Harry Windsor for announcing he’s got another child on the way and agreeing to have a chat with Oprah Winfrey about his life. What a shameless traitor.
Even as a staunch Republican I don’t get all this anger towards a 36-year-old who feels there’s no self-respecting job on offer in Britain so he’s gone to live with his American-born wife in her home country.
Abigger target is surely our US-born Prime Minister overseeing one of the world’s worst Covid death rates, partly through gung-ho arrogance and incompetence.
Harry leaves
himself open to mockery as he lolls around his California mansion with his pretentious partner, releasing cheesy pictures that look like they were scooped off the Love Actually cuttingroom floor. But some of the criticism is laughable.
It’s right he’s been stripped of his Royal patronages because he no longer represents us, say critics. But for millions like me, who long ago tired of this soap about dysfunctional antique relics, he never did. They say he’s milking his Royal name. But all of them are born to do that. That’s their point. And if they don’t feel they make enough money from the taxpayer or their inheritance, like Princess Anne’s gormless son Peter, they literally flog milk to the Chinese.
They say Harry’s treated the Queen abysmally, by not informing her of his every move. Do you know any grown man who only makes major life decisions after a sit-down over tea and digestives with his granny?
They say he should be forced to sever all official links with his family because he’s no longer a “real prince”. But what’s a prince? Wasn’t that a title given to the sons of land-stealers in medieval times that most advanced democracies got rid of centuries ago?
What are real princes supposed to do these days?
Prince Charles rakes in millions from a 14th-century duchy and is chauffeur-driven around his well-staffed mansions, yet permanently whines about his lot. Prince Edward orders servants around his 57-room stately home, having done nothing since he wimped out of the Army 34 years ago, apart from cut ribbons on new scout huts.
Then there’s Andrew. While his friend Ghislaine Maxwell, who introduced him to paedophile Jeffrey Epstein, rots in an American jail awaiting trial, he swans around his sprawling estate free as a lark despite accusations of involvement in her alleged crimes – accusations he strongly denies.
The current royal scandal is not the Queen’s grandson doing an interview with an American chat-show host to talk about his private life but her son refusing to do one with the FBI to address serious allegations about his.
Maybe we should be getting more worked up about that.
Which grown man makes decisions only after a chat with grandma?