In my last post, I mused upon the strange reluctance of today's youth to mount a violent insurrection against the Queen's ministers and overthrow the government.
On reflection, I've come to realise that, since 1979, we've seen a resurgence of oligarchies, from Iran to Russia, London to Washington. The centralisation of wealth and power, with the attendant crumbs thrown to those outside the rampant orgy of greed that occurred in the 1980's and continues unabated today, have made us a meek and beaten people. Trickle-down, my eye!
I now understand that there is only one way to effect revolution - I must murder my way to the throne of Great Britain.
Now, it sounds a bit far-fetched, but hear me out. After all, what worked for MacBeth can surely work for me - and my real name is MacRodent.
Sadly, I'm of mongrel stock, part Scots, English and Irish, so I reckon I'd probably have to slaughter my way through around 25-30 million of my compatriots before I would be able to stake a credible claim. That's not counting the Anglo-Saxon/Celtic diaspora in the New World, of course.
This may seem like a large figure, but Britain in MacBeth's day only had a tenth of our current population so it's only a little bit more extreme, statistically speaking.
Mind you, that's going to be a lot of damn spots to cry "Out!" at.
I'd usher in a Utopia of plentiful food, clothing, luxuries and entertainments for the people who survive my killing spree. Every man would live like a king, although of course not exactly like a king. More like a vassal with a snazzy cloak.
I understand you might not wish to live under my wise and benevolent rule, but that is no reason why you can't be included in my great scheme for the nation - when I am king, you will be first against the wall.
From revolutionary to monarchist in just two posts - the blogosphere is truly a wonder!