Category Archives: Fuck The Jubilee 2012

Sycophancy Knows No Limits

Its been there since 1858, it’s officially called the Clock Tower, but most people probably know it by the name of the bell it houses – Big Ben.

But now, in the latest bit of jubilee sycophancy, it is to be renamed the Elizabeth Tower in honour of Mrs Windsor, the House of Commons has confirmed.

It follows a campaign, backed by most MPs and the three main party leaders, to rename the tower in recognition of the Queen’s 60 years of unelected privilidge. The House of Commons authorities have now agreed the change – like they were ever likely to say no.

Conservative MP Tobias Ellwood originally proposed the idea an early day motion which was backed by 40 MPs. The motion called on the House of Commons Commission to consider the change “in recognition of Her Majesty’s 60 years of unbroken public service on behalf of her country”. Mr Ellwood is no doubt contemplating  a just reward in a future honours list.

And this at a time when many of those same MPs are seriously considering cutting the benefits of those already at the bottom of the pile… something that I hope voters will bear in mind come the next election. 

Coming soon –

> Stonehenge to be renamed Queenhenge.

> Glastonbury Tor to be renamed Sixty Glorious Years Tor.

> London to be renamed Elizabethville.

Why not ?  The sycophancy seems to know no bounds now.

Mr. Frankenstein



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Did you enjoy waving your flags at your betters as they paraded down the Thames on Sunday ? Lucky you – not everyone had such an uplifting experience, it seems…. as reported in The Guardian yesterday:

A group of long-term unemployed jobseekers were bussed into London to work as unpaid stewards during the diamond jubilee celebrations and told to sleep under London Bridge before working on the river pageant.

Up to 30 jobseekers and another 50 people on apprentice wages were taken to London by coach from Bristol, Bath and Plymouth as part of the government’s Work Programme.

Two jobseekers, who did not want to be identified in case they lost their benefits, said they had to camp under London Bridge the night before the pageant. They told the Guardian they had to change into security gear in public, had no access to toilets for 24 hours, and were taken to a swampy campsite outside London after working a 14-hour shift in the pouring rain on the banks of the Thames on Sunday.

One young worker said she was on duty between London Bridge and Tower Bridge during the £12m river spectacle of a 1,000-boat flotilla and members of the Royal family sail by . She said that the security firm Close Protection UK, which won a stewarding contract for the jubilee events, gave her a plastic see-through poncho and a high-visibility jacket for protection against the rain.

Close Protection UK confirmed that it was using up to 30 unpaid staff and 50 apprentices, who were paid £2.80 an hour, for the three-day event in London. A spokesman said the unpaid work was a trial for paid roles at the Olympics, which it had also won a contract to staff. Unpaid staff were expected to work two days out of the three-day holiday.

The firm said it had spent considerable resources on training and equipment that stewards could keep and that the experience was voluntary and did not affect jobseekers keeping their benefits.

The woman said that people were picked up at Bristol at 11pm on Saturday and arrived in London at 3am on Sunday. “We all got off the coach and we were stranded on the side of the road for 20 minutes until they came back and told us all to follow them,” she said. “We followed them under London Bridge and that’s where they told us to camp out for the night … It was raining and freezing.”

A 30-year-old steward told the Guardian that the conditions under the bridge were “cold and wet and we were told to get our head down [to sleep]”. He said that it was impossible to pitch a tent because of the concrete floor.

The woman said they were woken at 5.30am and supplied with boots, combat trousers and polo shirts. She said: “They had told the ladies we were getting ready in a minibus around the corner and I went to the minibus and they had failed to open it so it was locked. I waited around to find someone to unlock it, and all of the other girls were coming down trying to get ready and no one was bothering to come down to unlock [it], so some of us, including me, were getting undressed in public in the freezing cold and rain.” The men are understood to have changed under the bridge.

The female steward said that after the royal pageant, the group travelled by tube to a campsite in Theydon Bois, Essex, where some had to pitch their tents in the dark.

She said: “London was supposed to be a nice experience, but they left us in the rain. They couldn’t give a crap … No one is supposed to be treated like that, [working] for free. I don’t want to be treated where I have to sleep under a bridge and wait for food.” The male steward said: “It was the worst experience I’ve ever had. I’ve had many a job, and many a bad job, but this one was the worst.”

Both stewards said they were originally told they would be paid. But when they got to the coach on Saturday night, they said, they were told that the work would be unpaid and that if they did not accept it they would not be considered for well-paid work at the Olympics.

Molly Prince, managing director of Close Protection UK, said in a statement: “We take the welfare of our staff and apprentices very seriously indeed.

“The staff travelling to the jubilee are completing their training and being assessed on the job for NVQ Level 2 in spectator safety after having completed all the knowledge requirements in the classroom and some previous work experience. It is essential that they are assessed in a live work environment in order to complete their chosen qualifications.

“The nature of festival and event work is such that we often travel sleeping on coaches through the night with an early morning pre-event start – it is the nature of the business … It’s hard work and not for the faint-hearted.

“We had staff travel from several locations and some arrived earlier than others at the meeting point, which I believe was London Bridge, which was why some had to hang around. This is an unfortunate set of circumstances but not lack of care on the part of CPUK.”

The company said it had spent up to £220 on sponsoring security training licences for each participant and that boots and combat trousers cost more than £100.

The charity Tomorrow’s People, which set up the placements at Close Protection under the work programme, said it would review the situation, but stressed that unpaid work was valuable and made people more employable. Tomorrow’s People is one of eight youth charities that were supported in the Guardian and Observer’s Christmas appeal last year.

Abi Levitt, director of development services at the charity, said: “We have been unable to verify the accuracy of the situation with either the people on work experience or the business concerned.

“We will undertake a review of the situation as matter of urgency. Tomorrow’s People believes strongly in the value of work experience in helping people to build the skills, confidence and CV they need to get and keep a job and we have an exemplary record going back nearly 30 years for our work with the long-term unemployed.”

Mr. Frankenstein

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Bad news, loyal subjects.  Mrs Windsor’s husband – Phil the Greek, as he’s known in the East End bars and whorehouses he frequents – has been taken  ill and won’t  be attending tonights jubilee pop concert.  He’s probably got at least another couple of hours in the queue at his local NHS A&E department before he gets the chance to make a racist comment about the overworked doctor who draws the short straw and has to deal with him.

Actually, I suspect it might just be a ploy to get out of going to the gig – Sir Elton John, Sir Cliff Richard,  Sir Paul McCartney [who will probably not be performing “Give Ireland Back To The Irish”], Dame Shirley Bassey, Madness shedding the last vestige of credibility – sheesh !  A line-up like that would certainly  have me reaching for the medical symptoms dictionary. Hell, I’d fake bubonic plague to get out of an event like that.

An interesting point to ponder, though – what if Phil was to shuffle off this mortal coil in the immediate future ?  It would certainly put a damper on proceedings, the adoring crowds being confined to waving their union jacks at the funeral cortege. And the Olympics looming  ever closer too.

Or would they perhaps stick him on ice, put out a press release saying that he’s “resting after an illness”  [technically true, I suppose] and delay announcing his demise until later in the year ?

A state funeral right now would be bad for business,  and the monarchy is nothing if not a business, and not one that would allow sentiment to get in the way.

Just ask Nerissa and Katherine Bowes-Lyon. They were daughters of John Herbert Bowes-Lyon and his wife Fenella (née Hepburn-Stuart-Forbes-Trefusis). As John was the brother of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon the Queen Mother, the two daughters were first cousins of Queen Elizabeth II.

In 1987, it was revealed that Nerissa and Katherine had been placed in Earlswood Hospital for the mentally disabled in 1941, aged 22 and 15 years respectively,  categorised as  ‘imbecile’ in the surviving medical notes.

The bizarre and rather cold-blooded  fact is that although Nerissa died in 1986, and Katherine, as far as I know, is still alive , both had been listed in Burke’s Peerage as being dead since the 1963 edition. Effectively written out of history. Not good for the royal image, I suppose.

The infomation was  supposed to have been supplied to Burke’s by their mother, said to have incorrectly filled in the forms due to  ‘vagueness’, which is also somewhat bizarre. But considering they were first cousins of Mrs Windsor, you might have expected Burke’s to have double-checked with Buckingham Palace. Perhaps they did. Perhaps the enteries were officially approved. And  they were officially written out of history.

According to a 2011 television documentary about the sisters, “throughout their time at the hospital, there is no known record that the sisters were ever visited by any member of the Bowes-Lyon or royal families, despite their aunt, the Queen Mother, being a Patron of MENCAP” (the charity for people with a learning disability).

Nurses interviewed on the documentary said that, to their knowledge, the family never even sent the sisters a birthday or Christmas gift or card. When Nerissa died in 1986, none of her family attended the funeral. She was buried at Redhill Cemetery. Her grave was only marked with plastic tags and a serial number until her existence was revealed in the media, after when the family added a proper gravestone.

It does seem rather unlikely that Mrs Windsor or her mother wouldn’t know about the fate of their cousins/neices. But I guess there’s no room for sentiment in the royal business.

This attitude towards mentally disabled members of the clan isn’t anything new, though. In 1905, George V and Queen Mary had a son, Prince John, who suffered from epilepsy and who appeared to be autistic.

John was excluded from official family photographs and was not allowed to attend his father’s coronation in 1911. In 1917, he was removed to Wood Farm on the Sandringham estate. Reportedly, he saw little of his parents and died two years later.

Interesting to speculate what might happen if Will & Kate were to produce a mentally- [or physically- for that matter] disabled offspring ? Would it be spirited away soon after birth and replaced by something a little more in line with the royal image ?

I guess the question is – do you think they wouldn’t ?

And has it happened before ?

Mr. Frankenstein

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FUCK THE SILVER JUBILEE TOO…The Birth Of A Republican – 2

So fast-forward half-a-dozen years to the summer of 1977. I’ve just left school,  a move that neither party had any regrets about, and change is in the air, personified by the nascent Punk music, which I’d just arrived at via Dr. Feelgood and Eddie & The Hot-Rods. And the old order was in mortal combat with the new in the shape of the Silver Jubilee versus the Sex Pistols’ “God Save The Queen”.

One thing you need to know about 1977 is how few conduits for infomation there were. The idea of the internet would have been in the realms of science fiction along with holidays on the Moon, and it would be another 3 years before we even got a telephone at home. We had to walk the best part of a mile to the nearest pay phone…but then, most of the people I’d have called didn’t have a phone either. And no, children – we didn’t have mobile phones back then either. Deprived upbringing ? My dears, you have no idea…

Three TV channels and no option of satellite or cable, four BBC radio stations [the nearest commercial station was over 40 miles away and could only just be picked up, and we were on the wrong side of the country to receive Radio Luxembourg].

Punk fanzines were in their infancy, you had to know where to find them and, in any case, by their very nature they tended to chronicle events that had happened, rather than breaking news. The mainstream media was then, as now, firmly in favour of the status quo and therefore wasn’t considered a trusted source of information.

That just left the music press, basically Sounds, NME and Melody Maker, on the newstands every Thursday. I always favoured Sounds, because it tended to cover the kind of stuff I was getting into. NME always seemed a bit too much up its own arse, if you know what I mean, and MM just wasn’t a contender at all.

With that in mind, you’ll appreciate that it was often necessery to piece together what was happening in non-mainstream circles from a number of fragmented reports and rumours. At best, we were usually a week behind.

So, Mrs Windsor versus the Sex Pistols. History records that in the week of the Silver Jubilee celebrations, “God Save The Queen” peaked at #2 in the official UK charts kept off of  #1 by Rod Stewart’s  “I Dont Want To Talk About It”…an ironic title, as ever since plenty of people have wanted to talk about it.

I ought to point out that the record charts were far more important than they are today. Kids used to take radios to school on a Tuesday, when the new chart was released, so as to be the first with the news. Every Punk single that forced its way into the MOR-laden Top 20 was therefore a small victory in an on-going war. Or so it seemed at the time, anyway.

I think the rumours of dirty deeds in the chart compilation office were circulating almost immediately [as pointed out, “almost immediately” then meant “within a week or so”]. Had the BBC doctored the charts so as not to cause offence to Mrs Windsor ?  Had the palace actually applied a bit of pressure to BBC executives who might have half an eye on a knighthood for services rendered ? We didn’t know, but we knew what we thought

The story that I heard later – and I’ve no idea if it’s true, but it at least seems plausible –  was that the chart compilers suddenly changed the rules – sales of records would no longer be counted if they were from a record label’s own stores.

Of course, this made no difference at all to most record labels, because they didn’t have stores. But Virgin, the Pistols label, did. And bearing in mind that many record outlets refused to stock “GSTQ”,  Virgin stores must have accounted for a large proportion of sales.
Although presumably they also sold a fair few elsewhere just to make #2.

Well, as I say, I’ve no idea if this is actually true. And if the palace did apply pressure in an attempt to mould unruly popular culture to their own designs, we’ll probably never know for sure. All I can say  is that at the time it seemed like the Esthablishment were applying the screws to something that displeased them, and that was reason enough to fall in behind the republican flag.

Incidentally, 1977 was the only time that somewhere I was living actually held a royal street party. But it was just for the younger kids, us older teenagers weren’t invited. Of course, we wouldn’t have gone even if we had been… but it’d have been nice to have had the opportunity of making a point by refusing. Bah ! Foiled again.

And here we are all these years later, in a different century even !, and Mrs Windsor is still clinging to her throne like a very determined barnacle.  And something my teenage self could never have expected – I’ve recorded a version of “GSTQ”


Free MP3 download here-

It was originally recorded for a jubilee-themed competition on and you might not be suprised to hear that it got 0 votes. Although to be fair, a third of the enterants also got 0 votes, and the winner only got 3, so I’m not losing any sleep over it.

And no – in this case I dont think pressure from the palace was involved…

Mr. Frankenstein

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It may have become apparent in the course of recent posts that I’m not exactly a card-carrying, flag-waving, forelock-tugging monarchist. But what set me on this course ? What traumatic event in my distant past ?

To answer that, we must take a journey back through time to the early 1970s. My home-town was having a year-long festival to celebrate the fact that it had been the venue of an important battle  500 years before – about the only thing that ever happened there – and someone had persuaded Mrs Windsor to distribute Maundy Money at the local church there that year.

Maundy Money ?  One of those ancient customs that are now pretty obsolete but presumably continued because it makes it look like the monarch is working for their money. Royal Maundy  is a religious service in the Church of England held on Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday.

At the service, the British Monarch or a royal official ceremonially distributes small silver coins known as Maundy Money as symbolic alms to elderly recipients. The coins are legal tender but do not circulate because of their silver content and numismatic value…well, actually they do circulate, you can buy them on eBay. I guess real cash in the bank beats symbolic alms every time.

Like many of my peers at that time  I was  a member of a paramilitary youth organization founded by an ex-soldier with imperialistic views. Once a week we would don uniforms and salute the flag. Ok… it was the Cub Scouts, but nevertheless we were told we were going to strut our stuff, such as it was, for Mrs Windsor.

I dont remember being particularly enthusiastic about it to start with, and my expectations dropped further when the great day dawned cold and grey. Standing around freezing my pre-pubescent bits off was not top of my list of things to do,  especially as we had been ordered to wear short trousers. No-one wore short trousers in the Cubs normally, but apparently failure to do so on this occasion would  have been an affront to the monarch in some unfathomable way. This minor fashion detail may well have been the planting of the first small seed of republicism.

So there we were, lined up behind the church, our green uniforms set off nicely by our increasingly blue-tinged skin. Then there’s a flurry of activity and there she was – Mrs. Windsor herself.

My first impression ? Well, I thought she’d be bigger. Even a few of our more gangly Cubs, myself included, seemed to tower over her.

Second impression ? Didn’t she look…I dunno…kind of dowdy ?

Ok, I know what you’re thinking –  since when was a 10-year old, especially one wearing short trousers, considered an authority on sartorial elegance ? But that’s rather the point, I think. If even I was struck by the fact that, despite unlimited wealth, she looked a bit frumpy…I mean, she wasn’t even wearing a crown. I really felt she hadn’t put the effort in.

These two impressions were formed in a split-second, just before we were engulfed and completely hidden from the view of the midget monarch by a pack of cameramen, tv news, security men … I dont think the woman even saw us.

And then the circus passed on and that was that, leaving me with a distinct feeling of anti-climax and what I guess was the first symptoms of a case of Emperor’s New Clothes Syndrome – we’d spent all morning hanging around and risking exposure for that ? Why ?

Once you’ve asked the all-important question “why ?”  and started to think about it, there’s no going back, I guess, even for a frozen 10-year old in short trousers.

Mr. Frankenstein

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Tourists Are Money – Aren’t They ?

Whenever anyone tries to defend the concept of monarchy, two arguments always seem to be advanced – the value to tourism and the supposed inadequacies of an elected president. I was reminded of this today when a letter pushing both views appeared in one of our local papers, and I think these are points worth looking at.

Firstly, we’re frequently being told that the value of monarchy to the tourist industry is immense…but how do we know this ?

The answer is we dont.  Tourists come for many reasons and, unless you’re going to question every single one as they’re about to enter the country, there’s no way we can know their motivation. To imply that tourists only visit the UK because of the monarchy is as misleading as suggesting that tourists only visit Thailand with a view to a little paedophile action. Undoubtedly some do, but most have other motivations.

It follows that the economic value of the monarchy to the UK tourist industry is impossible to calculate, not that it stops  their cheerleaders from reiterating their supposed value – such as The Telegraph newspaper, which boldly stated that  ” there is the unquantifiable, but enormous, tourist revenue it generates.”  Yeah, but – if it’s unquantifiable, how do you know its enormous ?

In any case, unless you’re a visting head of state you are not going to meet any members of the monarchy on your visit. You might just see one from a distance at a ceremonial affair, but you’d probably get a better view on TV.

No, what most tourists probably come for is  things – landscapes, museums, various other attractions…if the monarchy vanished without trace tomorrow, these things would still be there and tourists would still come to see them.

After all, does no-one visit France, Germany or America because they dont have monarchies ?

The second argument usually put forward is that  “having a monarchy saves us from having President Blair”, the implication being that any president would inevitably be an ex-politician. They seem to miss the point that he would at least be a head of state we were permitted to vote in…and who we could also vote out.

But in any case, its not really a valid argument anyway, because there isn’t a rule book. In the event of the abolition of the monarchy we’d have the chance to actually write the new rules, and one of them could be to exclude ex-politicians from running for office – something I’d advocate.

What exactly would a president be ?  Really, a sort of meeter-and-greeter on a national level, a non-political figurehead.  Someone to put on a show at official functions, open a few events, someone like….an actor ?

Is it such a strange idea ?  An actor would make a great head of state – they’d only be playing a part, after all. By actor, incidentally, I’m not talking about soap stars, I’m talking about actors – there must be loads of them around, experienced stage actors largely unknown to the general public but more than capable of bringing something to the part.

After all, Mrs Windsor might have been on the job for 60 years but she still sounds like a unenthusiastic  housewife reading a particularly boring shopping list. This is partly because – despite what the media would desperately like you to believe – the Windsors have zero charisma, but also I suspect, because she never had a director telling her  “put a little life into it, luv…”

And now – some more music…


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Fuck The Jubilee – 2

It’s not just music – here’s some artwork…



That one is the work of DayMoonRoseDawn and was orriginally posted at


Campaign Badges of Sheffield, UK, have a number of topical badges available, including this one. They’ll also make badges to your design. Worth checking out.


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Fuck The Jubilee 2012

Despite what the mainstream media would have us believe, the whole country is not currently indulging in a paroxym of royalty worship. The fact that our glorious monarch has notched up 60 years of unelected privilige may have some dancing in the streets, but for many others it varies from being an irritation to an insult to our intelligences.

Unemployment rising, services being cut, a bunch of politicians who seem to be doing their best to make bad times worse… and we’re being encouraged to hold street parties – at our own expense, its not as though she’s paying for the beer or anything – to celebrate one of the world’s richest woman’s clinging to an unelected office. What’s wrong with this picture ?

But its not all bad news. Although you wont see it mentioned in the mainstream media, there’s a healthy underground swell of anti-monarchist feeling that breaks through in creative outpourings. It was particularly noticeable at last year’s royal wedding, googling “fuck the royal wedding” threw up a wide variety of Youtube protests, from the satirical to the outraged.

It looks like the Jubilee overkill is going to achieve similar results, and I hope to introduce a few of them here. Cherish them, they’re true rages against the royal machine. Let’s start with a prime example….


Mr. Frankenstein

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