A never ending source of amusement to me - I know, I know, I'm a saddo - is that what interests the average political blogger is of no interest whatsoever to real people. But even more striking is the converse of this. Now, I am aware that many people set up their blogs for just this reason - they cannot get the real people in their lives engaged in conversation about the topics dear to their heart so they look to the virtual world for solace. And it is axiomatic that the stone age media (or meeja as we used to call it) has just Lost The Plot.
But there are certain areas where you might think an overlap is possible. One of these is the small matter of that greatest of all soap operas, the Royal Family. In Bloggo Bloggo Land, the only acceptable stance on Royalty is ennui. In the real world this position is just not tenable, and I for one am with the inhabitants of Terra Firma on this. You cannot be neutral. And if you profess indifference, you are, not to put too fine a point on it, a fucking liar.
The surprising thing is that the sundry former Marxists, ex Trots, Stalinists, Leninists, Anarcho Socialists etc that make up the Bloggie Left also profess the same lofty disdain for a topic that once was the symbol for everything they once hated with such vitriol. I can understand why the Bloggie Right are happy to keep quiet on the subject. Sheer bloody embarrassment, that's why. But there must be other cyber lefties like me who positively salivate at the latest cock up, the latest revelation, the latest whinge from that jug eared moron, the latest goosestep. There must be at least a smidgin of satisfaction that criticism of Royalty, unheard of even five years ago, is now de rigeur in the press and on TV, not just in the bars and sitting rooms of the great unwashed.
When I was young there was only Willie Hamilton. Thankfully, things have moved on, without, it has to be said, any contribution from Republicans whatsover. It has been a solo effort by the horse faces themselves. But in memory of times past, I'd like to raise a glass to that old war cry that always briefly united the many winged beast that was the Old Left, Shoot the Bastards, secure in the knowledge that we won't have to.