Mad King Chuck Visits the MAGA White House

Last week, this poncy English toff named Chuck gave a speech to Congress.  In his home country, they call him “Charles the Third, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories, King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith.”  However, as he had crossed America’s moat to visit the descendants of the rebels who turned the British Empire upside down, he looked like a “Chuck” to me.

President Trump hosted Chuck at the White House with splendid pomp and circumstance.  He also greeted America’s former landlord with a contingent of Revolutionary War-attired soldiers and a huge statue of Benjamin Franklin.  The White House communications team even blasted out a Paul Revere-esque warning to Americans: “The British are coming!”  Taken together, the president’s message was polite but clear: Lovely of you to visit, and even lovelier to see you go.

I’ve never understood Americans’ fascination with the dis-United Kingdom’s “Royal Family.”  The royal family…barf.  The only “Royals” families that matter to me are the ones who support the Kansas City baseball club.  That club, by the way, is named for the “American Royal,” a cattle show that began in the Kansas City Stockyards in 1899 and a tradition that took its name — with some humor and a tip of the ol’ cowboy hat — from the Royal Agricultural Society of England’s annual “Royal Show.”  It was Missourians’ way of telling the rest of the world that, in America, horse shows, rodeos, and barbecue competitions are more important than any king.

Still, when I inspect the “pop culture” drivel spewing from the sewers of Reddit, Facebook, or podcast gabfests, I realize that a large number of Americans are enamored with the inbred idiots of Europe’s hemophiliac aristocracy.  Wealth and fame are well-known aphrodisiacs, and just as some people are attracted to Hollywood actors too dumb to know just how dumb they are, many of those same people are attracted to pudgy, balding, stuttering, gouty imbeciles who know next to nothing, aside from how to wear an unwieldy crown.

I have noticed over the years that the Americans most caught up in the soap opera of wayward “spare” Harry and his “D List” actress wife Meghan (Are they “royals” still?  Who cares.) are the same ones likely to go to a “No Kings” street performance in the middle of a workday afternoon.  Leftists scream about the “patriarchy” with feral rage but are the first in line to grovel at the feet of reigning European patriarchs.  When Downton Abbey was “Making the Monarchy Great Again,” every other article coming from the rubbish bin of America’s glamour magazines dramatically declared,

This is the kind of caring, compassionate, feminist, virtue-signaling aristocracy that we deserve!  The same groupies who loved Downton also “occupied Wall Street” and endorsed the murder of anyone loosely connected to the “1%.”  As is their bent, leftists talk a great deal from their own derrières.  They speak in flatulence and call it French.

Chuck is hardly a ringing endorsement for monarchy.  He is plain and uninteresting.  His wife, Camilla, is plain and uninteresting.  Together, they look like a couple of forgotten antiques that the American Pickers crew might find in an old barn.  If I lived in a land that made these two my “rulers,” I would at least understand the impulse to commit national-suicide-by-Islamic-conquest.  You look at the extended “Royal Family” — an odd assortment of perverts, profligates, and prostitutes — and a reasonable person might rightly conclude, “Yeah, Britain’s done.  The party’s over.  Turn out the lights, and call it a night.”

The kingdom’s ruling monarch used to daydream about being a tampon, for goodness’ sake!  We make fun of “Tampon” Tim Walz in the United States because the governor of the Somali colony of Minnesota insists on putting women’s menstrual products in boys’ locker rooms.  Chuck wanted to become a menstrual product so that he could become “closer” to the object of his affections, and the Brits made Creepy Uncle Chuck king!

Sending Chuck over to woo President Trump during America’s two-hundred-and-fiftieth birthday bash wasn’t a great idea.  Yeah, we Americans have a connection to our British pals across the pond.  On the other hand, none of us relates to the reigning king.  Seeing him in action leaves the impression that the reason we speak of America’s “special relationship” with the U.K. is that Britain is, well, special and needs a little extra help getting on in the world.  After all, our former lords did scuttle their navy, declare war on “climate change,” and invite most of the third-world to invade their shores.  Do these sound like the actions of a sane and competent empire or the delusional concerns of another mad English king?

For what it’s worth, Congress seemed to adore Mad King Chuck’s speech to the corrupt members of its dishonest and degenerate legislative body.  Democrat senators and representatives — you know, the self-described “anti-authoritarians” inciting insurrection against the federal government and assassination attempts against President Trump — jumped to their feet to applaud a foreign king.  Democrats actually love authoritarians, so long as those authoritarians believe what Democrats believe.  And King Cuck Chuck speaks “Democrat” as well as the Democrats’ own Senate minority leader, up-Chuck Schumer.

Royal Chuck told America’s preeminent criminal class of insider-traders-posing-as-esteemed-lawmakers how important it is for the United States and the United Kingdom to remain partners in defending “democracy” around the world (so long as the U.S. military does all the hard work and American taxpayers foot the bill).

His Majesty “Chas Trips” reminded Congress of America’s obligation to defend Ukraine from Vladimir Putin because the United States is in NATO; and Article 5 requires the collective defense of all members; and Ukraine, of course, is not a member of NATO; but reasons and such; therefore, Americans must support non-NATO Ukraine because the British king who dreamed of being a tampon says so.

Chuck also pontificated on the importance of respecting the “rules-based international order” (which globalist financial elites from the City of London wrote so that globalist financial elites from the City of London could make lots of money).  The British king took a number of swipes at President Trump by demanding “checks and balances” on the Executive Branch.  If what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, we Americans would like to demand that the British stop making inbred dotards king.

Finally, Chuck III declared, “Nature is my god.”  As someone who has chosen to “defend the Christian faith” by submitting to Islam, it’s hardly surprising that the British king worships Mother Earth, not Jesus Christ.  Camilla’s poodle has replaced the Three Magi with Greta Thunberg, Al Gore, and John Kerry.

If we little people don’t embrace serfdom, totalitarianism, and a global government run by ruling elites, then bad weather will kill us all.  Of course, our would-be feudal lords have bunker-palaces in New Zealand where they can safely watch us die.  Chuck’s Green New Deal commandment to Americans is thus: Submit to carbon taxes and global redistribution of wealth, or suffer damnation in hell (which almost certainly means being stuck listening to Thunberg, Gore, and Kerry whine for eternity).

I listened to Britain’s tampon king for one reason: to remind myself how awesome it is to be an American during this year, our country’s two-hundred-and-fiftieth birthday.  Chuck did not disappoint.  I’m extremely grateful our ancestors chucked the monarchy into the deep sea.  Getting rid of useless kings was step one in making America great.  Ignoring foreign kings who visit our shores is essential for keeping her great.