Post by Verbivore on May 6, 2023 12:32:10 GMT
I have just finished watching the world’s greatest silly-hats party, the coronation of Charles III and Camilla!
Regardless of my feelings toward monarchy, at least in an Australian context, the coronation was a spectacle worthy of my spectacles – and perhaps (?) worth the alleged £100M it cost, although those Brits struggling against poverty in a failing economy might disagree.
Both Charles and Camilla seemed at times on the verge of collapse from the great weight of their regalia; Camilla had trouble keeping her hands still, and Charles with keeping his eyes open. (I thought that Camilla, born with an unfortunately equine face, scrubbed up rather well.) Harry Harkle attended (though performed no official role), poignantly sans his harridan wife Me-gain.
There was music from Williams Byrd and Walton to Andrew Lloyd-Webber, traditional pieces to modern gospel and avant-garde. There were choristers, chorales, soloists, trumpet fanfares, organ, orchestras, pealing bells, ritual, pomp and pageantry like only the British can do; robes and costumes, stoles and ruffs, horse-drawn coaches, trains, pages and attendants, a heavily sgraffitied throne, an anointing, crowns and silly hats galore, sermons and symbols, crib sheets and cue cards, processions, myriad flags, and a cast of thousands … and the inevitable British rain.
What a show!
Now back to my, ahem, colonial republican meetings. ;-)
Regardless of my feelings toward monarchy, at least in an Australian context, the coronation was a spectacle worthy of my spectacles – and perhaps (?) worth the alleged £100M it cost, although those Brits struggling against poverty in a failing economy might disagree.
Both Charles and Camilla seemed at times on the verge of collapse from the great weight of their regalia; Camilla had trouble keeping her hands still, and Charles with keeping his eyes open. (I thought that Camilla, born with an unfortunately equine face, scrubbed up rather well.) Harry Harkle attended (though performed no official role), poignantly sans his harridan wife Me-gain.
There was music from Williams Byrd and Walton to Andrew Lloyd-Webber, traditional pieces to modern gospel and avant-garde. There were choristers, chorales, soloists, trumpet fanfares, organ, orchestras, pealing bells, ritual, pomp and pageantry like only the British can do; robes and costumes, stoles and ruffs, horse-drawn coaches, trains, pages and attendants, a heavily sgraffitied throne, an anointing, crowns and silly hats galore, sermons and symbols, crib sheets and cue cards, processions, myriad flags, and a cast of thousands … and the inevitable British rain.
What a show!
Now back to my, ahem, colonial republican meetings. ;-)