God Save Our Queen And Her Trusty Sidekick Too

Queen Christine reigneth supreme:

Mrs. P has kindly reminded me that, as a result of my recent Ghoul Pool win, I am queen for a day and subsequently have the right to issue two royal decrees.

But before issuing said decrees, a few questions must be answered. You see, being queen for a day is not as simple as it seems, because there are a multitude of contingencies one must take into account, all of which bear on said edicts soon to be uttered by my royal lips. First off, what is my territory? Or, for the legally minded, my jurisdiction? Am I queen of, say, the entire world? But surely not, for that right belongs only to the Queen of Heaven and Earth, the Blessed Virgin Mary Herself, whose role I could not usurp, not even for a day, not even for so august a win as the Ghoul Pool.

My gaze, then, turns toward those countries with existing monarchies--but out of the handful, which to choose? As I spent two lovely years there, England, perhaps? But then how would one explain the existence, even for a day, of a French-Vietnamese Catholic monarch sitting on the British throne, when the Act of Settlement is still in force and the oaths sworn during the Chrismation Liturgy would send me straight to Hell? Oh no, my dear Britannia, you will not do.

Traveling a little eastward, one might consider Denmark, which would be in need of just such a queen as I to help restore its Viking soul to to its Catholic pre-Reformation glory. The thought of consorting with the Crown Prince Frederik also appeals. But the very fact that I met and fell in love with and was unceremoniously dumped by a Dane I met at Oxford rules it out. Karsten read Theology at Wycliffe Hall (named after the 13th century heretic), and was just the sort of tall, grey-eyed, intelligent, mysterious sort of man my inexperienced, unconverted, 22-year-old heart could delight in. We spent a week together in France doing all sorts of very unCatholic things, my youthful amour growing all the while, only for him to tell me most politely while reading the morning paper on the train back to London that our little affair was just that and no more, thus taking my inexperienced, unconverted, 22-year-old heart and tearing it up into a thousand tiny bits on the cabin floor. Heartbreak on the Eurostar. So, Denmark, you can thank Karsten for my refusal to be your queen for a day.

Perhaps instead I might be queen for a day of the country in which I reside. But then that would mean scrapping the Constitution, the three branches of federal government, and the separation of powers to set myself up as Supreme Monarch, with powers second only to George W. Bush himself. On second thought, I suppose that wouldn't be so bad. My first course of action would be to assign myself a trusted advisor; Elizabeth had her Walsingham, Henry had his Cromwell, and Mary had her Maitland (and then she didn't, and then she did, and then she didn't, and then she once again did), so Christine must have her own worthy sidekick. One mustn’t make such decisions lightly; the Queen’s advisor must not only be bright, capable, and experienced, he must also have the appropriate gravitas. It doesn’t hurt to be good-looking, either. That puts me rather in a bind because practically everyone in the Peperium clique fits the description. I must, therefore, go on instinct with this one, and choose the sole clergy member who frequents the blog and enlightens with each comment: Fr. M. True, he may have been a hellion in younger days, but a decade in the priesthood has surely mellowed him out and lent him the appropriate gravitas.

On to the royal decrees. As I am only allowed two, I must choose wisely and carefully. After all, the United States of America is in a great mess, and I have any number of issues to concern myself with: abortion, divorce, war, corruption, Justin Timberlake. As the last issue is far too disturbing and troublesome, we’ll go with the first.

The First Royal Decree
By royal command of Her Majesty Queen Christine, it is hereby proclaimed that:

Whereas the Honorable Nancy Pelosi is a self-proclaimed Catholic mother of five who refuses to recognize the sanctity of life;

Who regularly commits sacrilege by receiving Holy Communion week after week while obstinately and publicly persisting in her error;

And who wears utilizes far too much hairspray;

In exercise of Our Power as Supreme Monarch for one twenty-four hour period over the United States of America, We hereby decree that the Honorable Nancy Pelosi be soundly spanked on the bottom as many times as she has declared herself “a powerful woman” in public speeches since her ascendancy to the position of Speaker of the House. This will take place on the National Mall promptly at 8 a.m. every twenty-second day of January each year until the Honorable Pelosi publicly and openly repents of her position with regard to abortion.

The Second Royal Decree
Be it herein enacted that the Honorable Hillary Clinton will perform the public spanking of the Honorable Nancy Pelosi on the National Mall promptly at 8 a.m. every twenty-second day of January each year until the Honorable Clinton publicly and openly repents of her position with regard to abortion.

(Addendum: As Our trusted advisor, Fr. M strenuously objected to the wisdom of such measures; but, consistent with the nature of Our Office, We have overridden his undoubtedly prudent advice and look forward with satisfaction, nay, delight at next year’s anniversary of Roe v. Wade.)

Huzzah for Queen Christine! And a half of a huzzah for her trusted advisor, Father M.

(Father M., you are worth a full huzzah but history has shown that female monarchs can get a bit testy about those sorts of things so the half is for your own protection.)

Oh and Queen Christine, you reign here until the next ghoul buys the farm. I've demoted myself to chatelaine of Patum Peperium. I'm much too prone to offing heretics and causing revloutions. I much rather be in control of the keys and the Lord. The mortal Lord of Patum Peperium that is....

Comments

[Christine]

Mrs. P,
Do you really look like Angelina Jolie?

[Mr. Peperium]

All hail Queen Christine and the melifluous melodies of her multifarious...drat, I can't think of a word that begins with "m" that means "decrees".

I wouldn't have made a good cortier. I would never have risen above the rank of Third Assistant to the Royal Ruff-Fluffer. I suppose those things had to be fluffed up every now and then, like tutus.

But I digress. Oh mighty--if temporary--Queen, that your decrees might be heeded, if only for 24 hours.

[Mr. Peperium]

Who says Mrs. P looks like Angelina Jolie? What does Angelina Jolie look like? Who is Angelina Jolie?

Now you know why a man ten years my senior introduced himself at a public function as "only slightly less hip" than me.

[Mrs. Peperium]

I repeat, I look like Barbara Bush Sr...

[Mrs. Peperium]

So Father M., care to elaborate on :

"True, he may have been a hellion in younger days, but a decade in the priesthood has surely mellowed him out..."

Holy Week is coming up and some bang up stories couldn't hurt. You can even have the keys to the blog to do it up right...

[Christine]

Angelina Jolie:

http://www.poster.net/jolie-angelina/jolie-angelina-portrait-6500224.jpg

[Fr. M.]

Christine, I have never seen Mrs. P., someone once said that she looks like Angelina Jolie (without the tattoos I imagine.) I have seen Card's Wife... Picture a preppy, Catholic Jennifer Love Hewett, so I imagine they both get a good bit or attention when they go for their oyster and champagne forays at the local country club. Basil could prove the definitive word on this...

Thank you very much for making me your advisor, BTW, and as such I must ask, with what, exactly, should Hilary spank Nancy? I bet Maximum Leader could come up with something mideval. Wouldn't it just be easier to spill some Holy Water on them and watch them melt into a puddle of green ooze(and hairspray)?

[Fr. M.]

"...True he may have been a hellion in his younger days..." refers to something I conveyed to Christine that happened in 1976-- when I was ten. Just a mischevious chid story for another day. Sorry, no lascivious stories happened in my past unless you would like me to make them up...

[Marupa]

Angelina and Jennifer? This is more accurate:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wp3m1vg06Q

[Hobbes]

This is it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXP3-r8J8ys

[Card's wife]

People stop us all the time and ask us if we are Angelina and Jennifer. When we were at the Met with Fiendish last June a little girl actually came up to us and asked us for our autographs.

[Christine]

Mrs. P,
Well, now, I must see a picture of you, if you really do resemble one of the most beautiful (if not disturbed) actresses in the world.

Card's wife,
Is that true?

Fr. M,
I thought just the bare hand would do. Sprinkling holy water is an excellent option--but once they've melted, we wouldn't have the pleasure of witnessing the spanking spectacle in future years.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Ok, let's put this one to bed, shall we?

In my 20's male family members describe me to their eligible male friends as looking like her with a fairer complexion:

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://i.imdb.com/Photos/Events/0356-55t/klinekev.in%26&imgrefurl=http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/0356-55t/Events/0356-55t/klinekev.in%26.html%3Fhint%3Dnm0000177&h=400&w=284&sz=11&hl=en&start=23&tbnid=tfTBpQ22jXj3nM:&tbnh=124&tbnw=88&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dphoebe%2Bcates%26start%3D20%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN

Now, I did wear my hair like that for black ties and special dates. The fellas at my Boston club had a code name for it, my "Anastasia look". Referring to this:

http://www.amazon.com/Anastasia-Mystery-Anna-Amy-Irving/dp/fun-facts/B000I5X7WK

But I am 20 years older and trust me, many things have altered, including my hair which is completely silver now and remains undyed. The mantle has been passed to my daughter and she seems to be enjoying it with all the German boys...

[Old Dominion Tory]

Good for you for letting your hairdresser butt out when it comes to your silver mantle, Mrs. Peperium.
Thanks to my ancestry, my hair is now almost completely grey (well, what's left of it). Although when in the company of my children I often receive compliments on my grandchildren, I do receive many "senior citizen" discounts unbidden.

[Card's wife]

Christine, Mrs. P is as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside.

Mrs. P, tell RKFDIL that Cardette is acquainted with a young boy who is very interested in her so Andrew might be up for grabs.

[Christine]

So priests notice women? I've always wondered about that--because everyone knows once you receive the sacrament of holy orders, you cease to be human...

:)

[Mrs. Peperium]

You know, I think all of you are nuttier than me. Which is saying a lot....

[Card's wife]

Spring is in the air...

[The Maximum Leader]

In response to the good Father M's comment, I would normally suggest spanking with flails, spiked maces, the flat side of a broadsword and the like. But in the spirit of charity, I would suggest that Speaker Pelosi is spanked with a regulation cricket bat.

Additionally, I have a picture in my mind of Mrs P and Card's Wife as Phoebe Cates and (the dreamy) Jennifer Love Hewitt. I don't know if I want to ever spoil that illusion.

[Fr. M.]

Christine, I am sure that all good Catholic men, including priests, can set eyes upon women and simply appreciate the beauty without it being in any way prurient.

Leader, I like the broadsword idea. Oh, and yes I do remember a certain Maximum Leader posting a picture of jennifer Love Hewett on Ash Wednesday (without even photoshopping ashes on her forehead...)

[Mario (mandingo)]

Hey, priests are human too.

I have never seen Mrs. P. but for some reason I too always pictured Mrs. P with dark hair kinda like Liv Tyler or Jolie or Cates something like that but 10000000 times more refined and educated and graceful.

Angelina Jolie is strange - she is not a WASP I think, she looks like she has Latin blood or perhaps is a Cajun somewhere in there? I saw her profile on the cover of Hello magazine - too perfect a face.

[The Maximum Leader]

Aiee! I didn't realize that I posted photos of (the dreamy) Miss Hewitt on Ash Wednesday. I probably should have exercised a little more discretion then.

Or, I could have photoshopped ashes on the pic.

I'll be more careful next time.

[Christine]

Of course, Fr. M; I was speaking in jest.

[Fr. M.]

Christine, I totally knew that you were speaking in jest but it gave me an opportunity to bat to your pitch.

Leader, I was just giving you static (I bet you didn't think that your own diocesan clergy was monitoring your blog, heh, heh...) but you could, while you are at it, photoshop a nun's habit on her. Oh, and a rosary, of course. Now THAT would be a perfect JLH...

[The Maximum Leader]

Ack! My own diocesan clergy is reading my blog! They are seeing my unphotoshopped JLH pics. During Lent no less...

I fear that my photoshopping talents are not quite up to snuff to get JLH in a habit with a rosary. I'll have to practice.