Having a wank and other things it is now okay to do

WITH the mourning period officially over, a normal life of self-abuse can resume. You are now cleared to do these things: 

Have a wank

Finally, after ten whole days of respectful abstinence, you are free to enjoy one off the wrist. Although not explicitly verboten during the mourning period, the whiplash of flitting between the filth you need to get off and footage of the coffin would be too strong. There was a risk you could conflate the two.

Change out of mourning dress

The plain, creased black T-shirt you’ve been wearing since the news came in on September 9th can now be clumsily shoved back into the drawer. It has done its duty and will not be needed again for another 30 years, God willing, or until you get called for jury duty. You can now don your accustomed garb: ironic T-shirts with unremovable turmeric stains.

Acknowledge the monarchy’s flaws

A period of politely ignoring the monarchy’s links to colonialism, and the bankrolling of jeweled crowns and golden carriages while the country sinks into a cost-of-living crisis, has ended. As of today though you can tut and roll your eyes whenever the Windsors are mentioned. Give it a week before calling them a carnival of twats though, to be safe.

Enjoy a single second of happiness

In case you’ve forgotten, happiness is a state of emotional joy. You used to feel it watching a viral video of a cat or hearing about an old schoolfriend’s career failure. It will feel wrong to experience happiness in a world without the Queen, but she’d want you to. Possibly at the expense of Boris Johnson fuming at not giving a speech yesterday.

Feel sad about something else

The Queen has had a monopoly on sadness for the last ten days, and rightly so. But now she’s gone, there are smaller issues to feel miserable about. From climate change to your inability to pay rent to supporting Leicester City, a whole catalogue of woes awaits you. A change is as good as a rest so focus your depression on these topics instead.

A day that made everyone bemused to be British

YESTERDAY was a day unique in our recent history. A day that cannot be matched. A day that saw the whole nation bemused to be British. 

From the Shetland Isles to the Scilly Isles, from Strabane to Dungeness, from babes in arms to centegenarians, a country came together to say ‘What’s that they’re putting on the coffin now? The what standard? Is that orb glued down?’

No matter who or where you were, every Briton watched proceedings in patriotic befuddlement, asking ‘Are those the Queen’s guards? No? The Grenadier guards? The Royal Horse Guards? Well which are they?’

As the procession passed through London, few us truly understood what was happening, relying entirely on hushed BBC commentary that if we missed a murmur of left us baffled as to who was firing cannons and why.

‘Westminster Abbey’s big, isn’t it? Where are they going now? They surely can’t expect Charles and Camilla to walk all the way to Windsor? Oh, they’ve got in cars,’ was the chorus heard throughout the UK.

As traditions entirely unfamiliar to us unfolded, a whole nation questioned their immediate families as to why Prince Harry was not saluting the Cenotaph, what the Queen’s bargemaster does all day and how exactly they would employ a personal piper.

We clung to those few moments that were comprehensible, and if that included a horse attending the funeral then we did not question them. For this day was stirring, moving and frankly beyond most of us. On this day we were entirely lost.