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The whinger royale

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Senior correspondent Barry Everingham says the gold medal for Olympic whinging must go to that Princeling of pomp and pointlessness — chief British royalist David Flint.

The Australian monarchists' hierarchy


WELL I'M BACK again writing for IA after a period of extended leave, which I took for personal and compassionate reasons.

It was a time of reflection and the gathering of precious memories shared with family and close friends.

But life goes on and, after reading the newspapers, I clicked on to David Flint’s personal website to see what he has been up to; well, I really couldn’t believe my eyes.

He accused our fellow Australians who don’t go along with his moribund, laughable and archaic views about Britain’s monarchy – oh, sorry DF, you keep reminding me it’s ours as well – of being “spoilers”.



Rubbish.

I was would have thought he would have gone overboard about the young princes and princesses, and Kate going ape about Cousin Zara’s great equestrian skills — that got heaps of publicity and, of course, why shouldn’t those young foreigners applaud the undoubted equestrian skills of the Queen’s granddaughter?

Sadly, our magnificent young athletes haven’t been seen much on the top step of the medals podium, but had they enjoyed as much success during these Games as they had in past tournaments, I for one would have been questioning just which team those beloved royals of Flint would have been rooting for; after all, none of the young layabouts have ever had a real job, were educated in England, and their connection to this country is so tenuous it beggars description.

Why is this? I hear the more sensible readers ask.

[caption id="" align="alignright" width="330"] The British royals support Britain, obviously.[/caption]

Well, not one is lucky enough to be an Australian, and they all have an 85 year old grandmother who has been this country’s head of state for six decades, but who found the time in all those years to make just 16 visits.

If I happened to be a betting man, I’d have money on them tearing out their hair with disappointment each time we managed to get a medal in events in which their countrymen and women competed— and cheering victoriously when we were vanquished by the British.

But that’s not all.

Flint goes on — and I’m sure no Australian will fail to be horrified by his statement about our ambiguous flag.

He sees nothing wrong with the Union Jack flying alongside ours and New Zealand’s flags.

Then, drawing the longest bow ever in his crazy career, Flint uses the similarities (in colours) of the flags of Thailand Luxembourg, France, Netherlands, Costa Rica, Yugoslavia and Russia to make his point, which I couldn’t see — sorry!

Just as I can’t see the point of David Flint.

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