From The Mind of Merc - Richard III & Henry VII

Sometimes I find my mind wandering over various eclectic topics and occasionally I am inspired to write some of them down. Today, probably inspired by recent developments, I was pondering over the public images of two particular monarchs.

It's All About Me - !!!NEW!!!

Bit of a simple one today. I decided to take the McFly song 'All About You' and reverse the focus. (I hasten to add the song does not reflect my own perspective)

All About You All About Me not by McFly

It's all about me, (it’s all about me)
It’s all about me baby, (it’s all about)
It's all about me, (it’s all about me)
It's all about me,

You should know that there is something to know you see,
And it’s really nothing new it’s all about me,
If you don’t like it well then I will set you free,
There’s no reason to feel blue it’s all about me

And you should answer all my wishes,
If I asked you to,
And please don’t deny me one of your kisses,
I don’t want you too.

It’s not tricky ‘cause it’s as easy as you one two three,
You know of course it’s true,
It's all about me.

And you should answer all my wishes,
If I asked you to,
And there should never be a reason that you,
Don't know what to do.

It’s not tricky ‘cause it’s as easy as you one two three,
You know of course it’s true,

There’s no reason to  feel blue,
‘Cause it’s really nothing new,
It's all about me.

It's all about me, (it’s all about me)
It’s all about me baby
It’s all about me baby
It’s all about me baby

Speech-wrecker sketch (Part 5) - Mercorabilia

Time for another speech-wrecker sketch - this one focuses on Henry V's speech from the eponymous Shakespeare play perhaps as it would have been viewed by a certain Monty Python tourist.

Henry V:
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Soldier:
Yeah – except they will actually be able to hold their manhoods rather than having left them and their lifeless corpses on the battlefield. Seriously – is anyone buying this? This bloke’s ignored us for most of our lives and now because of some spat involving the French king sending him a batch of new tennis balls he wants us to go and kill a load of Frenchmen who haven’t ever done anything to us. The guy killed one of his best friends because he stole a trinket from a church – ok he shouldn’t have done it but seriously? Hanging? And how do we know he won’t do the same to us? Or even pay us? I note that in his list of names he doesn’t include anyone without a knighthood – shows how much we mean to him, doesn’t it? Brothers? Yeah right – so long as he doesn’t have to touch us. If by some miracle we survive, do you think we’ll ever see our ‘brother’ again? Of course not. All we’ll see is his taxman. He’s basically giving us two options – death or taxes – what a nice king he is!

You seriously think the survivors will be proud to have fought on a saint’s day? And not just bloody relieved they didn’t get killed like most of us are going to do. You’re sure it’s not nightmares and the psychological trauma of seeing our best friends hacked down to pieces in front of us that we’ll be remembering instead of some noble and glorious victory which frankly is looking about as likely as it raining herrings. Or being forever haunted by the fact that we spilled blood on a saint’s day – how on earth can that be a good thing?

You think people will regret not being here? You honestly think they’ll be lamenting not facing several thousand heavily armoured soldiers in a muddy field in France when they could be safe at home a-bed?And you reckon we’ll be lauded as heroes rather than murderous nutters – following a king as deluded /stark staring bonkers as the French one? If you’ve got a problem with him – sort it out yourselves – don’t drag us into this. You want the french king’s daughter? Fine – you have her. What’s it got to do with us?

And stand tiptoe? We’ll be lucky if we can bloody stand! That’s if we still have both our legs after this after that lot have finished with us – who by the way outnumber us by at least 5-1! Why on earth are we doing here? We must be mental? I mean what’s he ever done for us? Band of brothers? We’ll be burned and buggered more like! He wouldn’t lay his cloak down in the mud for one of us to cross over it and he thinks we’re going to lay down our lives for him? Yeah right! What is he on? Personally I’m all for saying stuff this for a game of soldiers and turning round and going right back where we came from – who’s with me?...

So the battle’s over, huh? Well …um…good game, everyone. Good game. I’m just off to go safe home, you know see old age, have a…have a yearly feast on the vigil with my neighbours, teach my son with this story from this day to the ending of the world. Don’t get up. Bye.

The Man in Red - !!!NEW!!!

Went to Hampton Court last weekend - on one wall of which hangs an infamous portrait of a mysterious Tudor gentleman dressed entirely crimson - The Man in Red. Hmm - sounds like an idea for a song.

 

Woman in Red The Man in Red not by Chris de Burgh

You ever seen that portrait that’s in the Royal Collection,
An object of fascination,
You ever seen that full length man who is dressed so strikingly,
And also dressed so ornately, standing so proudly,
Have you ever looked at the clothes he’s wearing,
Or the distinct blue-grey colour of his eyes,
The man in red;

Yes the man in red is standing up there, tall and proud,
Such bright clothes that he stands out in a crowd,
Silent and yet so loud,
But we don’t know this person’s real name,
He’s an unidentified man of great fame;

You ever seen that portrait that’s in the Royal Collection,
An object of fascination,
You ever seen all of the people who go to see his portrait,
So many who will speculate, guessing who he is,
But it’s never been firmly resolved,
Could he be the illegitimate king’s son, or a man of state;

Yes the man in red is standing up there, tall and proud,
Such bright clothes that he stands out in a crowd,
Silent and yet so loud,
But we don’t know this person’s real name,
He’s an unidentified man of great fame;

Yes he’s an unidentified man of great fame.
It’s the man in red, it’s the man in red,
It’s the man in red, it’s the man in red,