From: Jansher
Category: Other stuff
Date: 10 November 2002
For the first time The Queen looked beautiful in her black hat with its black feather. The grey day and in sombre overcoats, wreath layers stepping backward from the cenotaph so as not to turn their backs on the honoured dead. The hierarchy intrinsic to what is patriotic nonsense, despite its almost perfect aesthetics. Why kill, why dead? unanswered and irrelevant questions to tradition. First The royals lay theirs as rightful rulers, then the prime minister for the people, then the political party leaders, then the black faces from th commonwealth. Music, flowers, grave history. We are actors in the mirror.
[_shared_elements/comment_on_this_review.htm]