G20: The Circus Was in Town

The other night I was leaving a restaurant near Regent’s Park, when a most amusing sight hit my eyes: There were about eight bully boys in yellow vests on motorcycles, loud sirens sounding and blue lights flashing, holding up the traffic. For about two minutes nothing happened, until a cavalcade of cars came round the corner. It was the garish display of Their Presidentishnesses of the United States disturbing the peace of the night. They were on their way from the nights jollities to Woolly’s House, and everything was shrieking ‘hit with a bomb here please’. Some kind of security; we were laughing our heads off.

As the limousines declared security vehicles have see through windows, I could make out in the first of them two puppets, one of them wearing an Obama-Mama wig. Maybe they were just tired and not moving after the days partying, I don’t know, but I rather thought that they were probably chauffeured some less obvious route while this Notting Hill Carnival drew all the attention. Maybe they were riding their bicycles there, disguised as cleaning staff. At least I suppose that the American embassy is cleaned from time to time, I know for a fact that it is fumigated after every visit by someone from the CIA to get rid of all the bugs.

The day’s delectations had included a meeting with the Queen, which took place after she had granted audiences to the Prime Ministers of Australia and Canada. There was one highlight in this meeting worthwhile reporting, and as usual it came from Prince Philip, the only Royal able to speak his mind. His Royal Highness asked if the President had managed to stay awake during a gruelling day. His Obamishness replied that he had had breakfast with Incapability Brown, meetings with the Chinese, the Russians, and David Cameron and had managed not to nod off. Which made Prince Philip ask: ‘Can you tell the difference between them?’

In the evening a Royal state dinner was held. Apart from all the clowns attending the G20, the Duchess of Cornwall managed to attend despite a purported bout of bronchitis (see: The Queen of Indolence). The wives had the definite advantage of having a separate dinner without almost any dull and stupid politicians, but why Prince Philip, the Duchess, and Mr Kirchner as husband to the President of Argentina were compelled to the main dinner is a mystery. I will probably take the issue to high court, as it is either a breach in human rights, equality rights, or animal rights.

The dinner was named as typically British, which made me really pity everybody present. Do you know that there are thousands of Charities in Britain, and not one of them protects innocent food from British cooking? It’s quite outrageous. Jamie Oliver, the Naked Chef, did the dinner with a brigade of his young and upcoming chefs, so maybe it wasn’t all bad, though the menu would not have hit my taste buds with pleasure. But then, British cooking mixes up the most incongruent ingredients. I think they call it creative cooking.

The morning of the summit, coming out of my door, I was hit again by the Presidential Carnival Train. It must be just my luck to get another laugh out of it. In daylight it had added even more Hollywood kitsch to its lower class appeal. There were now open windows and back flaps in the Jeeps accompanying the limousines. The windows showed some toy boys showing of their play guns for anyone to see. The whole turnout was even more ridiculous in plain daylight than the night before.

You wanted to know something about the summit? It cost millions to tax payers. It produced loads of warm air. It kept working people from their work, while dodgy politicians had a holiday from doing nothing. It will cost millions of trees their life to print all the crap called news. It was more damaging to global warming than all the cars in the United States put together. To sum it all up: What a lark. And that is where the word summit comes from: ‘Let’s summit up.’ If you imagine that Their Presidentialnesses had to bring along most of their toys, like cars, helicopters, airplanes, ships, and 500 bootlickers, the money spent would have saved thousands of working Americans from being repossessed. The same may be said for all other air heads attending.

Postscripts are in order for non-British readers. ‘Woolly’s House’ is the correct name for what goes as the United States embassy in London. Quite aptly, it is a nouveau riche’s dream of a London town house dating to the turn of the last century. Even more aptly, the house was built by the founder of Woolworth stores, which, again like the United States, went bust in December. You might also have noticed that the Queen granted audience to two Prime Ministers, while holding a meeting with the Obamas. This is due to the fact that she received the Prime Ministers of Australia and Canada. This is due to the fact that she held the audiences as Queen of Australia and Canada respectively, while receiving a head of State as Queen of all her dominions when doing small talk to their Obamishnesses. The Queen is the only person in the world who has made a career out of Multiple Personae Disorder, and she may be excused when found talking to herself. The only other Schizophrenic in the world is President Sarkozy of France, who doubles in as Prince of Andorra (see: Andorra).