The curse of #$@&! celebrity

By Ian Frazier


“As Peyton chatted with my dad I was freaking out! Peyton F---ing Manning is talking to my dad!!!!”

tweet quoted in the New York Daily News

“Did you see who that was? George fucking Clooney!”

heard on the street

At a ceremony last week at Buckingham Palace, Her Royal Majesty Queen fucking Elizabeth awarded new titles to two of her illustrious subjects, the former Sir Paul McCartney and the former Sir Elton John. In recognition of their distinguished contributions to the arts, the queen declared that henceforth the one shall be known as Sir Paul fucking McCartney, and the other as Sir Elton fucking John.

Also in attendance at the ceremony were the queen’s husband and royal consort, His Highness Prince goddamn Philip, and the next in line to the throne, Prince darn Charles, Duke of Wales, and his wife, the Lady Camilla oh heck Parker Bowles. Upon bestowal of the title, the recipient may also claim the privilege of a personal coat of arms. For Sir Paul, traditional rules of heraldry stipulate a field argent upon a shield gule, with a guitar and two lions rampant and fucking. For Sir Elton, a pair of outsize eyeglasses rests upon a field crimson, with two lions couchant and fucking. Among mottoes, they can choose from several on the subject of what the world can go and do to itself. These coats of arms may be displayed on all residences, CDs and servants’ liveries.

The special rank of “fucking” dates from the era of the great dukedoms, in the Middle Ages, when life on the field of battle and in the king’s court involved having sex frequently. A royal favorite who distinguished himself or herself in this regard not only “got a lot,”  but also received the king’s prerogative of inflicting it upon others. From this we derive the modern expression, “to get a royal fucking.” Today many of the ancient titles have fallen into disuse. King Aethelred ye fokking Grayte was the first monarch in the British Isles to employ the title. He was thought to have composed the popular ballad, “Fokk Mie? Och, Nae, Fokk Yu,” in celebration of his reign. Fittingly, Aethelred died of an apoplexy while responding to the pope’s Remonstrance against Heresy and Obscenity of A.D. 663. His heirs allowed the title to go extinct when it came up for renewal in 1970, and it remains available for purchase by any interested party for five hundred million pounds.

 With intermarriage common among the ruling families of Europe, many nobles could claim the distinction descending from both the male and the female lines. As an example, the Holy fucking Roman Emperor Emile Clovis Gustave Roland fucking Bourbon and fucking Water, after his abdication and flight in the Year of the Great Fucking, assumed the identity of a commoner with the unpretentious if somewhat enigmatic name of Rolly F. Fucking. During the popular uprisings against the monarchical system of the mid-19th century, many noble families dropped the honorific entirely, or adopted the more democratic alternative, “frigging,” which failed to capture the popular imagination and only hastened the aristocracy’s decline.

Read the rest of this story in the Winter 2016 issue of Artenol. Order yours today

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