By Stanley Collymore
Based on the first born order
of things it does make one
wonder who is the real
Monarch of the UK. Since the
very concept of a monarchy
is itself: a despicable, quite
self-indulgent, irrefutably
outdated and notoriously
hypocritical, institution.
Bearing that in mind, it
did bear an element of
acceptable legitimacy
when two competing
combatants desirous
of fulfilling this role
did bravely face off
against each other
'till a conspicuous
winner emerged.
Nevertheless, every child has
a clear moral right to know
who its biological parents
were, or if still alive, are!
And I personally am quite happy
to see dispensed with the cruel
connotations associated with
illegitimacy and colloquial
bastardy. And these kinds
of definitions completely
replaced with, the term
love child! Other than
when of course, used
to meam: all useless
politicians, equally
UK, civil servants;
odious jobsworth
council workers;
ingrained racist
coppers and an
amalgamation
of identically,
doltish Daily
Mail reared
likeminded
sick minds
with their
obsessed
network
of trolls.
Complemented with
a number of sport
adjudicators. In
essence and likewise
absolute fairness as
well to all of these
adversaries, the
vital reference
and inclusion
crucially too
of football
referees!
After all in deciding that
an offspring born out
of wedlock should
be classified as a
love child and not be called
a bastard, unfortunately
that terminology, how-
ever, fails to conjure
up the very same
resonance and
rather caustic
implications
deliberately
wished for,
so doesn't
have the
obvious
ring or
the greatly desired effect
when of dire necessity
it has to be urgently
and also vitriolically
thrown, as a fitting
example of quite
deep disgust for
the behaviour
displayed by
notoriously
prejudiced
allegedly:
foot-ball
referees.
So one would hardly
call such a partisan
reprobate, in the
heat of a soccer
match, a love
child would
they, now?
(C) Stanley V. Collymore
12 September 2020.
Author's Remarks:
Every child should legally and morally have the irrefutable right to accurately know on request who their biological parents were or are, as well as the exact circumstances of their actual birth and their attendant upbringing if the latter wasn't undertaken and carried out by their proven natural parents! Since the ramifications of consistently living a lie, as frequently happens in bastardized Britain, are far more injurious than knowing the unvarnished truth.
And to basically assist this process every UK child should in future be DNA tested at birth and for that DNA result legally and circumspectly matched against the DNA of the child's stated biological parents. That done and with everything, is as claimed, only then can those persons be annotated on that child's official and legal birth certificate as its biological parents.
However, when none of this can be officially and scientifically proved; the child is an abandoned one directly after a secretive birth, or adopted, a distinctly separate but official and legal birth certificate must be initiated with all these relevant details, and most crucially the child's DNA.
All biological parents willingly or otherwise finding themselves in that situation must be legally responsible for the financial upkeep of that child until he or she reaches the legal age of majority and likewise, unless there are compelling reasons to the contrary, have an equal say in that child's upbringing. On attaining adulthood what relationship a child has with its biological parents should be a matter entirely up to those who're directly involved.
Personally I don't give a shit about hereditary titles: all of which are absolutely vainglorious and vilely meaningless to me from my honest perspective, and what those who hold them or the idiotic prats that so fawningly bask in them because their evidently pathetic lives are patently and quite significantly themselves so totally and fucking well useless and dismally lacking in all self-worth, is completely up to them.
A staunch meritocrat I'm however all in favour of national or international awards being justly and on sole merit being awarded to those who justifiably earned them. However, on the recipient's death neither these nor the status associated with them should never be passed on in any way, least of all so hereditarily, to somebody biologically related to that recipient, who individually and self-evidently never earned them.
Finally, in terms of parental property, biological parents should be legally free to bequeath to whosoever they like, and choose to do so, what in life they honestly acquired through their manifest skills, brilliant endeavour, hard work and natural ability.
Not be forced to have the industrious fruits of their labour as well as their life's work arbitrarily or else rather compulsorily handed down basically hereditarily to someone whom they probably and justifiably detest, is an absolute bone idle and lazy waste of space - ring any bells with your Daily Mail and your own risibly favoured future king and his Stepford wife, broodmare consort? - and all the more so if that biological parent did commendably support that child up to adulthood.
In short: Ditch your rather twisted mindset and speedily get off your lazy, good for nothing asses and, accordingly, make your own way in this world. No one owes you a living after you've become an adult! But regrettably there's an abundance of such pathetic and despicably social climbing, entitlement assholes throughout the length and breadth of Britain who together with their usual obsequiously fawning, lowlife Useful Idiots plebeians could do Britain and the rest of the world a huge service by collectively topping themselves!
As for Delphine Boeal she has every right to know who her biological father is - even if he's a cowardly, self-indulgent, pompous, clearly arrogant, pathetic, self-entitled prat pretending to be otherwise than what he actually is - but I can't help thinking that she is considerably more obsessed with the hereditary paraphernalia that she thinks she's missed out on. Get a real and meaningful life Delphine Boeal! Not desperately yearn, as you're quite observably doing, for a patently make believe one.
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