It’s a boy!

God for Harry, England, and Saint George! Indeed, why the Lord would be so tolerant of the English, I may never understand, but there you go. Lots of Royal news, these last few days; gentle reader will excuse me as I continue to polish my monarchist credentials. And, good work Duchess! Not only the bundle in itself, but delivering its contents — our new tiny Prince — upon Saint George’s Day!

God bless us every one: for we now have “an heir and a spare.” Two spares, since the so-called “Conservative” former prime minister, some fellow named David Cameron, persuaded the guvmints of the Sixteen Commonwealth Realms to revise time-hallowed English common law to absolute primogeniture. (Roman Catholics are still barred from the throne, but their descendants now qualify, so long as they aren’t papists themselves.)

But hello: “It’s a boy!”

There is a cry still echoing down the ages. Any feminist or gender theoretician who doesn’t like it can go dangle from a rope. I have no time to write an Idlepost today, to which I might have added further provocations, so this squib will have to do.

Gentle reader, take a moment from what you are doing to drain a quick coupe of champagne. Then back to the mèinnean salainn. (I believe that is the Gaelic for “salt mines.”)