It's Coronation Week inside the tent that houses the United Kingdom and its commonwealth subjects, which, depending on your royal proclivities, is either a source of patriotic celebration or a resounding "meh." Most, including President Biden and A-listers, seem to fit the latter. But anything can happen come Saturday, when King Charles III sits on something called the Stone of Scone, when the heavens smile at his anointing, and this absolute banger blasts throughout the kingdom.
Personally, I'm pumped to witness what's all but certain to be a deeply hilarious spectacle of government waste to fête the survival of an ancient bloodline. After all, these sorts of historic events are the bread and butter of my work here at Mother Jones. I mean, what better way to spotlight the false altar of a meritocracy, the evils of classism, than a deeply anachronistic party to toast the biggest nepo baby to rule them all? Truly, I'm excited to watch and for one rare moment know, with full certainty, that at least we in the United States don't have to suffer similar embarrassments.
Then again, I'd also very much like to be a country that isn't rife with relentless gun violence and an abysmal health care system where private companies reap untold wealth, and where work-life balance is actually valued. Never mind, they win.
In any case, I genuinely dig this song. So, give it a listen—and congrats, Charles.
—Inae Oh
