Today was Cup Final day, well done to Portsmouth. Before the game they played the National Anthems. I wonder if I am alone in feeling compelled to turn it off as soon as I hear it. The origin of the tune, a bit of a dirge, is obscure. It isn't that that bothers me, but the awful lyrics, not a word about the country, just words hoping for the victory of our anachronistic head of state, from a pan European family of in bred aristocrats, over some mythical enemies. Not only that, we also have to ask "God", what ever that is, to do it for her. Verse six even has the words " Rebellious Scots to crush." No wonder they'd like to leave the union. I don't need reigning over and I'm no one's subject. I'm a citizen of this country and proud of it, but how much prouder I would be if we could get rid of all hereditary aristocrats, including the queen and here dis-functional brood.
I also noticed that one of the queen's grandchildren Peter Phillips got married to day. His bride renounced her religion so he could retain his place in the list of chinless wonders at number 11. That really does show that faith in a religion, nonsense that it is, is really expendable to the pampered parasites.
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