Memorialising

Last month I promised the ritual slaughter of a sacred cow and in these mean and vicious times there is only one sacred cow whose death is bound to wind up enough people to make life seriously interesting.

I can say what I like about her, she’s dead and can’t sue me. OK, so kicking someone when they are down might be easy, but where’s the challenge in that? Instead I’ve decided to go for the so-called guardians of her memory, that bunch of lawyers, hypocrites and pompous, self-important members of our overfed elite who reckon they’ve got a right to tell us what to do.

But first, who’s the sacred cow? I’ll give you a clue. She popped her clogs in the arms of a dodgy playboy. Not that Diana has much to do with what I want to attack, because I reckon that even she would have had enough sense to avoid the more grossout behaviour of the guardians.

Island race

Lets start with her scumbag of a brother. He’s opening up Althrop Park for a couple of months so that those who want to can get within a couple of hundred yards of her grave. Would have been a nice idea if he wasn’t going to rip-off everyone to the tune of a tenner for the privilege. So what that the profits are going to the memorial fund, he’s going to keep the accounts to himself and a million quid is a lot of dosh when no one knows how much Charlie boy is going to claim as expenses.

What about the lawyers? These parasites have raked in half a million bucks for three months work and reckon that they’ve been really nice in not taking any "profit". With the money they’ve grabbed already I wonder if they really need the profit anyway. It reminds me of the remark about the only difference between a dead lawyer in the middle of the road and a dead skunk is the skid marks in front of the skunk.

Next in the sights are all those bright ideas for "memorials". Would you really want to have Heathrow Airport renamed in your honour? Would you want to be cursed for queues, air traffic controllers and dodgy burgers? What about a statue instead? Maybe Peter Mandelson’s Colossus of the Dome re-made in her image? The thing about statues is that no one likes a statue more than a pigeon because it’s out of reach of cats and is somewhere to crap.

Candlepower

So far the fund has raked in £35 million, mostly from Elton John’s mawkish rendering of the warmed over Candle in the Wind, and £35 million could go a long way. It could pay for a real and valuable memorial that is more than a lump of marble or a crass bit of re-naming. I reckon that if we really want a permanent memorial there’s nothing wrong with building a children’s hospital. Not that we’ll get it. What we’ll get is something naff and nasty and demeaning which is about all we should expect when the great and pompous get their hands on anything that matters to ordinary people. Besides, I heard that dear old John Major, the "Y" Fronts Kid, is involved in all this somewhere and he is King Midas in reverse. After the mess he made of the country we all know what that’s likely to mean for the Diana Memorial Fund.