The Queen

I had a post ready to go this morning but I couldn't get it online because the Microsoft Writer app refused to co-operate. I'll find a way to publish it though, so all you breathless readers, take heart. All two of you.

It concerns the information security conference I attended in Nampa. It's ho-hum and not very interesting, just like the conference. You'll see what I mean.

The Queen

I just watched the movie. Excellent. A steady, well-acted, well-told story of the week of Diana's death and how the British Royal Family reacted (or didn't, as the case may be). I have always liked Elizabeth Regina and this story, even if halfway true, just consolidates that feeling. She comes across as a dignified human being, despite what the namby-pamby BritPress and other hysterical blowhards tattled on about during that period. Show Us You Care, went one headline. Ugh.

Diana, Princess of Wales, was a strumpet. Sorry, sometimes, the kind word is not kind. I didn't like her (I like Prince Charles even less) and I didn't like her carrying on in a most undignified manner, like she wasn't a mother to two children--one of whom will be the King of England one day--gallivanting around the world like a churlish school girl. I remember I was quite sorry she died, but that was the end of it and really, mostly because of her children. No wailing and gnashing of teeth like the millions laying a veritable carpet of flowers at the gates of Buckingham Palace.

The movie depicts the various characters' reactions to this debacle. The Queen attempts to keep a level head while battling tremendous public pressure to "become more human," whatever that means. The Duke of Edinburgh's usual recalcitrant brashness, Charles's petulant cowardliness and Tony Blair's grudging but gradual increasing respect for his Queen. There are many themes in this movie, all explored correctly--I may not be using the term properly, but it's my blog--though it's mostly about the easy degeneration of The British Character.

The Queen is rather surprised by this turn of events, rather expecting the usual and somewhat legendary British sang-froid and sense of decorum, but instead bowled over by the overly emotive displays of hysteria over a woman no one really knew. Thinking back, I recall feeling then that I was watching the end of the renowned English backbone, reducing that mighty nation into the bunch of sniveling girls they are today. In the end, she caves and thus survives: flying the Royal Standard at half-mast (something never done, even for dead Kings and Queens) and, of course, addresses the nation with a ridiculous but suitable mishmash of sentences to show she cared. And just like that, the small flickering light of English pride and Sense of History went out, like the death of the Stag (watch the movie.)

When Her Majesty passes, dear God, whence the Kingdom? Like many of his generation, one of the most selfish, and juvenile ever (I should know, my father is one), Charles is nowhere ready to shoulder the task of principled leadership. Prince Pussy.

Highly recommended, if only as an example of how to behave under pressure. That's right, cave. But cave in your own way.

Perfume News

I've some exciting news. This weekend, I'll be "taking a meeting" with the Thierry Mugler representative. She'll be deciding whether I will be helping out as a freelancer during a Perfume Festival. I'll be getting paid for it (I'd do it for free!) per hour and I can have one bottle of perfume per hour worked! Yes, any bottle of perfume. Oh yummy. Yes, I said yummy, what of it? Wish me luck.