Two royal lovebirds, seeking booty and plunder,
In Faerie Oprahland now make the scene —
Where ancient decorum is torn asunder,
Where woke outrage makes civil thought unclean.
From forth both pedigreed and bi-racial loins,
This pair of caste-crossed wokesters have their say
And, in the surge of ratings and coins,
Prove every dog will have its day.
Their three-hour display of PC whinging
And poor victimized Meghan’s smouldering rage
— Though it may produce a lot of cringing —
Is now the sordid subject of this page;
The which, if you with sharpest eye shall read,
What here you miss, your soul within shall heed.
They call him Harry. Could there be a more fitting name for this misguided, purposeless, carrot-topped, not-in-line-to-the-throne fool?
Harry the Fool fell hard for Meghan (the “h” is silent, as in Gandhi) the Shrew. A failed American actress who is years older and centuries more cunning than Harry, she shrewd her way into his foolish heart.
The person who holds that place in line to the throne that Harry does not, is older brother William. He would have been a bigger catch for the Shrew, but he was flawed because he was too wise and too already-caught.
William the Wise of Windsor being unavailable, the Shrew had to settle for little brother Harry the Fool. She consequently would never be a queen or wife to a king, but only the “Duchess of Sussex.” Life’s just not fair.
But the Shrew was willing to settle for Harry. He’s amusing and user-friendly. Besides, the Shrew wormed her way into the House of Windsor not to run it, but to ruin it.
An early act to that tragic end was to name her first child neither James nor George nor Alfred nor Phillip nor Henry, but…
… drum roll …
“Archie.” Not Archibald. Just Archie. Maybe she’ll name the next one “Jughead.”
Archie’s not in line to the throne, and so under the rules of the House he’ll never be called “Prince Archie.” The Shrew’s son will just be called something prosaic like “Duke Archie.” Life’s just not fair.
So the Shrew packed up Prince Harry the Fool and duke-to-be Archie the not-Prince and fled the country, taking nothing but about a zillion unearned dollars and world-wide fame. Like other penniless refugee families, except that this one was penni-ful, they came to America.
They had no friends, they had nowhere to live and, as usual, they had no jobs. Life’s just not fair.
But by scraping together a dozen of their millions and monetizing their worldwide fame, this brave couple were able to secure shelter and friends in the form of a $15 million dollar mansion and Hollywood celebrities. They even got a job, finally, but it lasted only a few hours.
It was a gig on Oprah. The Fool and the Shrew complained on daytime TV in front of millions that the House of Windsor is racist. They revealed that the British royal family is prejudiced against this clueless redheaded man married to an unappreciative white-looking biracial American woman upon whom the family gifted the title “Duchess.” Life’s just not fair.
A long-time British television news guy said he didn’t believe their racism story. For that, he got canceled. (He’ll be in good company once they cancel Shakespeare too.) Allegations of racism, like allegations of sexual harassment, are required to be believed unless the perpetrator is a Democrat. Because the British royal family are by definition monarchists, not Democrats, the family will lose.
The heads of that royal family are Harry’s indefatigable grandparents, the 94-year-old Queen and the 99-year-old Duke of Edinburgh. Between them, they’ve devoted a century and a half to serving the people of the British Commonwealth, a majority of whom are people of color. It’s a task she still performs.
The Duke has spent the last month in the hospital in the aftermath of open-heart surgery. One wonders if this very elderly couple witnessed from the Duke’s hospital bed the assault on themselves, their family, their people, their country and their culture by their privileged grandson and his American wife.
Hot on the heels of their TV extravaganza, the Shrew has leaked word that she wants to be a politician. We’re supposed to believe that it’s not because she craves the audience she never had as an actress but because she wants to help people.
Uh huh. Probably in the same way she’s been helping her husband’s grandparents.
As for that husband, Harry the Fool, he’ll never wear a crown. But maybe he can promote himself from British court jester to American First Lady.
For the sonnet prologue above, the Aspen beat gratefully acknowledges my neighbor, friend and beatnik Chad (“Bitter”) Klinger, a lifelong student and teacher of Western and comparative literature.