Monday's Jubilee adventures brought us the evening Concert Outside The Palace, with the sort of mix that you would never possibly see - or endure - outside of a royal celebration. And Elton John was out of tune wasn't he? We also had the Grand Beacon Lighting, proving once again the centrality of bonfires and fireworks at the heart of the monarchical propaganda machine (Guy Fawkes anyone?). Our own village beacon was one of the 4,000 'official' ones (there were other, non-official bonfires?!) although stuck as it was in a sheltered bit of lowland it was never going to be a major source of communication - for good or bad - with neighbouring beacons. As a source of warmth for the nearest barbecue tables it wasn't bad, but as a possible source of summoning for all the nation's manpower....all I can say is, don't ignore learning the language of the invader in that instance.
Finally, Tuesday. Oh, finally, the end of this four day splurge of sycophancy, neo-celebrity, extended holiday-making and televisual tedium. St. Paul's, which has suffered so much, hosted the Jubilee Thanksgiving Service and a parade of carriages, but I think I was beginning to see gaps where there should have been crowds. Perhaps we've all been Jubileed out, and the republicans will get the last laugh after all.