Tribute to A Different Denmark

Or: Cut off their legs and feed them heroin. They are embarrassing us!

Back in December 2008, I published an entry Some highly non-PC musings on sport at my style blog, from which I take an excerpt that seems now to be eerily clairvoyant regarding the current political climate.

I stated back then that I am more than just a bit sceptical about exclusive competitions for the disabled. I thought and I think they are abortive attempts at egalitarianism and a politically correct impertinence imposed on the sport-watching public. I want to know how fast the fastest of able-bodied men can run and I think it's a thrill to watch. I don't want to know how fast a man with one leg can run and I don't want to watch him at such an excrutiating exploit either. Besides, it creates virtual ghettoes and denies that handicapped people can, in certain sports, compete successfully against able-bodied competitors.



The medallists of the individual dressage: Lis HARTEL from Denmark on Jubilee, Silver, Henri SAINT CYR from Sweden on July, Gold, and Liselott LINSENHOFF from Germany on Adular, Bronze.
Credit: IOC Olympic Museum Collections

On June 16, 1956 at Stockholm, Sweden, a woman from Denmark won the silver medal in Olympic dressage at the second Olympic Games where women were allowed to compete in this sport ever. Lis Hartel was paralysed by polio below the knees. Even though she could only walk with the aid of a stick and had to be helped on and off her horse, she won the silver medal and repeated her performance four years later at the Rome Olympics. Nowadays, she'd be confined to compete at freak shows for the sake of political correctness. Justice must prevail and we have gone a long way towards downlevelling equality.

My entry ended there. However, it is obvious, that there is still an even longer way to go ahead of us and we are all following it without demur.

Correction: Lis Hartel had won Silver 1952 in Helsinki already, so THIS was her repeat performance. My apologies for this mistake.

Style Is An Attitude

Why do I think The Queen is stylish?

She has execrable dress sense. She is small, her once undoubtedly good looks have gone without leaving a trace and nobody who has any sense for what is beautiful would surround herself with dogs like Corgies. If she had, she'd get a Weimaraner. I am sure Corgies are great company and wonderful working dogs, but there is no doubt that they are butt-ugly.


So why is she still stylish? She is stylish, because she must know all this but doesn't seem to give a damn.

She seems to be above (and hopefully she is) the bad press she usually gets because the schmock corps think that a simple old countrywoman, who doesn't meet the standard of glossy-magazine-scum (downward, that is) and who would rather breed horses weren't it for what she considers her duty - a non-politically correct misnomer anyway - shouldn't be queen. Let's have Paris Hilton or ............ [insert name of any other whorish bimbo here] instead.

But there is so much more!


I like her for the thin-lipped, minimalist tribute she forcedly delivered during that obscene pageant of emotions following the death of Her Royal Sanctimoniousness She-who-Di-ed-for-our-sins.


... and for her glasses, which look as if she'd acquired them with a National Health Service voucher (and probably HAS acquired with a National Health Service voucher) and that she wears them while in full stately regalia.


I like her for her sense of duty, instilled into her at an early age by her wonderful mother and that she reportedly doesn't hesitate to apply the mechanic's skills she acquired during the war to a broken lavatory flushing should the need among her guests arise.


I like her for the touching speech, broadcast to the children of the Commonwealth during the Second World War.


I like her for her mother, the woman with the sweet smile and the steely backbone, whom Hitler had dubbed "the most dangerous woman in Europe".


I like her because everybody has forgotten that she once has been an extraordinarily beautiful woman -- and that she doesn't seem to give a damn that they have.


I like her because she always met with inordinate dignity the embarrassments foisted on her by her horrible husband and awful children. Oh wait... I exclude from this the only man among her children. She is called Anne.


I like her because she has only shed tears thrice in public, honest as always and at very apt occasions: On September 11, 2001, when having to say goodbye to the Britannia and on the death of her mother.

She is a ray of light in a society full of wrong standards and execrable role models, a paragon of dignity in a sea of phony emotions, and simplicity and honesty personified in a world of pretensions and pompousness.

And THAT is style!

A bit late but heartfelt nevertheless!

Happy Birthday Elizabeth R!

I like that woman for many reasons. One of them is the bad press she usually gets here because the schmock corps think that a simple old countrywoman, who doesn't meet the standard of glossy-magazine-scum -- downward that is -- and would rather breed horses and her awful Corgies weren't it for what she considers her duty -- a non-politically correct misnomer anyway -- shouldn't be queen. Too bad she neither looks nor acts like ................... (insert name of any whorish bimbo here). The media would adore her.

I like her for the thin-lipped, minimalist tribute she forcedly delivered during that obscene pageant of emotions following the death of Her Royal Sanctimoniousness She-who-Di-ed-for-our-sins.

I like her for her awful dress sense, which becomes even more obvious at semi-formal (here with the Duke of Beaufort at Badminton Horse Trials)...

... and informal occasions (here with Monty Roberts) ...

... and for her glasses, which look as if she'd acquired them with a National Health Service voucher (and probably HAS acquired with a National Health Service voucher) and that she wears them while in full regalia.

I like her for her sense of duty, instilled into her at an early age by her wonderful mother and that she reportedly doesn't hesitate to apply the mechanic's skills she acquired during the war to a broken lavatory flushing should the need among her guests arise.

I like her for the touching speech, broadcast to the children of the Commonwealth during the Second World War.

I like her for her mother whom Hitler had dubbed "the most dangerous woman in Europe".

I like her because everybody has forgotten that she once has been an extraordinarily beautiful woman -- and that she doesn't seem to give a damn.

I like her because she always met with inordinate dignity the embarrassments foisted on her by her horrible husband and awful children. Oh wait... I exclude from this the only man among her children. She is called Anne.

I like her because she aged gracefully.

I like her because she has only shed tears thrice in public, honest as always and at very apt occasions: On September 11, 2001, when having to say goodbye to the Britannia and on the death of her mother.

She is a ray of light in a society full of wrong standards and execrable role models, a paragon of dignity in a sea of phony emotions, and simplicity and honesty personified in a world of pretensions and pompousness.

Al my best for the next 80 years, Elizabeth R!