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| David Domoney exhibits caricatures of Will and Kate Photo: CATERS |
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| Source: bohoprincesse, via nous-sous-le-ciel-de-paris |
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| Crescent street - Lisbon, Portugal by © Piero Damiani |
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| Warm Sunday in Paris by © Carin Olsson |
"These were unhappy, roistering days in the Great City. The Leader, a round and blondish man, was surrounded by enemies, like small dogs barking and tearing at his raiment. Oh, he had fought them before. Indeed, since capturing the Great City, wresting it from the iron grip of the evil Downtowners, he had turned away one catastrophe after another.
Yet he survived.
And his supporters in the mysterious Hinterland cheered his every victory. He won, not through guile or the power of arms, but by simple rhetoric,speaking to the folk in their own simple language.
"It's ridiculous," he cried after each volley of grape.
Many thought his arrogance, his folly would bring him down. But he prevailed. His people understood him.
"It's ridiculous," the Leader cried. And the people nodded. It was all the fault of the court scriveners who wanted his blood to stain the royal purple. They had seen other, earlier leaders fight off the ravages of the scribblers.
The Great Lastman, whose only fear was being potted and boiled alive and eaten by heathen African natives. The Great Lamport, who governed with an iron will and who stood a rock, nay a continent, against the terrifying forces of change.
"Let's not just discontinue it; let's stop it," he roared in unforgettable and sublime oration.
But that was long ago. Now the Round One faced a horde of accusers. They insisted he had partaken of the Magic Powder which was forbidden in the Kingdom.
They produced fuzzy images of the Round One seemingly at play with purveyors of the Magic Powder.
His people were angry and saddened. They knew not where to turn. The Round One tried to comfort them before roaring off in his black chariot."
