Recently I had the misfortune to catch part of the State Opening of Parliament on BBC America. I call it a misfortune because it hammered home the utter venality and vulgarity of Britain’s governing classes. As the pomp and circumstance of the occasion unfolded, it was punctuated by the sort of howling and heckling from amongst the ranks of the elected Members of Parliament that one usually associates with a riotous mob of adolescent schoolboys. The motivation for much of this heckling seemed to be a disdain for tradition in general and for the monarchy in particular. The queen, as ever, seemed unperturbed by the immature babble emanating from the disordered ranks of her ostensible subjects. For my part, I felt a renewed sense of nausea at the depths to which my nation has fallen. The fact that this tawdry rabble could be governing the country was bad enough, but the thought that they had just been elected by the British people was far worse. It is a sad and sobering fact that the present denizens of the “sceptred isle” get exactly what they deserve. If Shakespeare were in his grave, he’d be turning in it!