They are just Meghan and Harry. Reminiscent of former Alberta premier Ralph Klein’s idealized couple of Alberta polity, Martha and Henry. There is no stuffiness of duke this, or duchess that. Harry and Meghan are just like everyone else, they present as our neighbours and friends.
You cannot look anywhere without self-serving celebrities bebopping about their latest videos, or coming out of some courtroom after their latest assault and chewing up the entertainment channels, which are now, alas, the only news we can really depend upon. Harry, formerly known as prince, has been stalwart. Very recently, in the flush of his US$110-million deal with Netflix, he found time to warn us of our common responsibilities to Mother Earth. From the backwaters of Palm Springs, Calif., he raised a cry, and spoke harsh eco-truth from the pulpit of a Netflix press conference. There is a page in “Foxe’s Book of Martyrs” waiting for this man.
People used to know these things in, say, the 12th or 13th centuries. If you ticked off the local oak tree, or failed to recite chants to the county stone circle, or neglected to dunk a half dozen witches in a nearby pond, Mother Earth would not be pleased. She would grow cantankerous. Crops would fail, animals would get mange and winters would never end.
Nope