Thoughts on the Noble Institution of Monarchy

 You can blame 9 years in the Kingdom of Thailand for making me an out-and-out monarchist.

When farangs bring up the subject of the Thai monarchy, even now, 10 years out of Thailand, I morph into Mr. Han from Enter the Dragon, and get defensive. "Do you think the Thai monarchy will survive?" asked one commoner (an American) after the passing in 2016 of HM King Bhumibol the Great. "I certainly hope so!" was the reply. 

For it is the monarchy, that venerable and inscrutable institution, that binds our two kingdoms closer than we think. HM the King, like HM our Queen, was a permanent fixture of day-to-day life. They are on our currency. Their images greet us everywhere (more so in Thailand). We don't have a lese majeste law in the UK but there are times, especially when one reads coverage of the Royal Family in the UK tabloid press, when one thinks that we could do with one. Irrational? No. One is not. Blame 9 years of regal brainwashing in the Kingdom of Thailand. 

Farangs visiting Thailand often used to ask, Why does the King never smile? They were referring to the late King, of course. But how to reply?  Simple. As a monarchist: "What has HM the King got to smile about? He has a country to run! Heavy hangs the crown (?) that wears the head (!), you filthy little serf." By and large, Americans in Thailand knew better than to talk about the monarchy in situ to Thais, but that did not stop 'em from giving us expat limeys proxy lectures on the subject matter. "I don't get you Brits. This is the 21st century. Why do you have a monarchy?  It serves no function what-so-ever." They were never happy with the answers.  Our monarch has a constitutional role and function. They scoff, snigger and resume going WAWK WAWK WAWK at us silly little Brits and our rinky-dink monarchy. Nonetheless, here is an illustrated caution for Americans and other farangs wishing to visit the Kingdom of Thailand.

"Mr. Han, so what you're saying is that I can't say nuttin about the Thai monarchy? Or make snide comments about the institution?"

"You are correct, Michael Jackson. Foreigners have no right to an opinion on the Thai monarchy. And it is imperative that one does not comment on Royal matters whilst resident in the Kingdom of Thailand."

"Royal whaaaat? Mr. Han, suddenly I wish to leave Thailand..."

"It is not possible. This is Thailand. Jackson 5 must pay exit visa first. Baht 10,000." 

"Bullshit, Mr. Han-Man! I reserve the right to be a disrespectful American overseas. This is because I hail from a badass nation that believes in free expression of the muthafucker..." 

"Bye-Bye, O.J. Simpson. Best stay home in your cold republic of drunken badass." 

The institution of monarchy is a sacrosanct subject. It's important for people, farangs and commoners such as yourselves, to know your place in the scheme of things. That is why I morph into Mr. Han on the subject of the monarchy.  There are squires, knights, vassals, merchants, and so on and so forth, and it's vital that plebs know and understand this. Not only did 9 years in Thailand brainwash me into being a monarchist, it also reinforced my overwhelming sense of self importance in the class struggle. 

But farangs, foreigners in general, holiday in Thailand at their peril without any thought to the customs and traditions of the host nation. In fact, before first visitation to the Kingdom (with a capital K) in 1997, I was unaware that the nation was a constitutional monarchy much like my own. That sparked an interest in the links between our two kingdoms. The commonalities. The constitutional role of the monarch. And the pivotal role that the Head of State plays as advisor to the government in times of crisis, and, sometimes, vice versa. 

But lemme spell it out to you again, farang. The first rule of Thailand: you do not talk about the monarchy. The second rule of Thailand: YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT THE MONARCHY. Do not bring it up in conversation with Thais. Do not try to use the subject to con your way into the confidence of the indigenous population. It's off limits, farang. Don't mention it. Don't think about it. Don't dwell on it. It's like that guitar in Spinal Tap. Don't even look at it. It-not-for-you, OK? 

Lese majeste chatterboxes get banged up in elephant chains at Bang Kwang Central Prison in Nonthaburi. Menu: fish head soup with cabbages, three-times-a-day, seven-days-a-week. Moreover, you wanna a lecture from the Embassy's locally recruited prison liaison officer? Yeah. A bored, old bag housewife with no bullpen manners! Know your place, shut your face and enjoy the rest of your vacation in my warm country (you soi dog with the big pompooey!) 

If only life was like that in England. Yes, ever since Prince Harry married the showgirl (Meghan Markle) in 2018 I have been inundated with queries and questions of concern. Is the Prince well?  Has the Prince been "pussy-whipped?" American peasant, are you British? Stay out of royal affairs! Ever since the Prince was beguiled and bewitched by the American actress, I am unsure how to answer. Now that a Yank is in the Firm, a Yank is entitled to an opinion on the Firm. It's usually negative. The institution is outdated. Racist.  But these foreign johnnies would be shocked to discover my plans for the Markle-Witch and her father, Thomas, "Master of Lightning" (Ed. Note: it's 'master of lighting', but what's a typo to Walsingham's Men?) 

An extraction team, led by Piers Morgan, is sent to Hollywood. Target: the Markle-Witch and her Father, the Master of Lightning (lighting?) And the sister in the wheelchair (a bothersome wench.) The plan: after the cable ties and hood treatment, it's an extraordinary rendition VIP flight to Scotland. Why Scotland?  Witches get burned in Scotland, that's why. Rewind: better make that England. Not because witches get hanged in England, no. In order to make the caper pay for itself, and bring in the tourists, the witch and her father will be exhibited for tourists at the Tower of London pending trial for heresy in Scotland. The trial itself will be on Pay Per View on HBO. Ditto the execution. It'll be the biggest thing since Joan of Arc. Believe me. But what about the sister in the wheelchair? I'll trade her for the hit-and-run USAF housewife. 

The Queen is Dead. God Save the King. A constant and a certainty is with us no longer. Americans, however, seem indifferent. A foxy bar girl at the local hipster dive joint referred to HM the Queen as "an old ass woman" several times on the day of her passing. MIND MY GRIEF I snapped like Bob 'oskins. Flipping cheek. Then a punter had the nerve to suggest that the Royals don't work!?! "My Queen served our country during World War 2," I said, in gravely Ray Winstone voice, "and she was on-the-job as Head of State for 70 faaackin' years." The silly little septic. He promptly shut up. The muppet. Yanks never argue about service to the nation state. Nonetheless, I have had to avoid watering holes in general during the 10-day period of official mourning. Why? Doh! Obvious. It's too tempting to spank a yank.