The corona covidian con is supposedly over. But this coronation of . . . bow down low . . . likely pedo “King Charles III,” the first such pageant in 70 years is, well, kind of immortalized, already, only hours after the event, preceded by a parade featuring countless uniformed, stoic-faced, minions in straight rows marching marching marching, heads covered with helmets, or bushes, or headsets with tassels, waists cinched with belts, stripes often on various colored pant legs, epaulets of various kinds on shoulders and chests, their bodies mechanical, droning on and on. And then standing still, very still, all of them in rows, for seemingly endless minutes. (What if someone has to pee?)

Oh, and it was dripping rain. Only onlookers had umbrellas. No fun.

I watched closely. Once in a while one of the soldierly minions moved his eyes from straight ahead to side-ways, but then, quick!, back again to face front, always front. We must put on a front to disguise whatever’s going on behind and within.

It always astonishes me to see how unique, intensely creative human beings can be transmogrified into robots, marching in lock-step, reminding me of 75% of humans who locked-stepped their minds into the covid con. This coronation as a $125 million pageant documenting, for time memorial, the mind-controlled hierarchy that puts occupants of the Gold State Chariot, “an 8800 pound masterpiece of 18th century extravagence,” at the very tippy-top.

That said, please do know that I also appreciate the fact that some traditions do live on in this topsy-turvey, “everything, everywhere, all at once” world. For traditions help stabilize inherently volatile situations. Of course, even this one had its polarity:

I appreciate the fact that what lives on is a family lineage. Something that has been just about destroyed in post-World War II America, when the G.I. Bill lured ex-soldiers and their young families elsewhere, out of the extended family nest, for education and a cheap mortgage on a newly built home in the suburbs.

I’m reminded of this because of a walk I took yesterday, with a neighbor across the street, whose extended family (except for her) still all live within walking or easy driving distance from each other in California. I discovered this when I asked how come she had 100 relatives coming to a June family reunion? Because there’s that many of us, she told me. And most of them live near each other!

Yes, lineage counts, because again, it stabilizes, through both space and time.

Meanwhile, I leave you with three images, each one making increasing fun of newly crowned “King” Charles.