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#king charles III
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How to identify Ai generated photos
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didthekingdieyet · 2 days
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mar h 25, 2024
no
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💜🫶💙
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royal-confessions · 3 days
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“History will be kinder to King Charles III than we are” - Submitted by Anonymous
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princessanneftw · 2 days
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Their Majesties The King and Queen, accompanied by other Members of the Royal Family, will attend the Easter Mattins Service at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle on Easter Sunday.
Buckingham Palace | 26 March 2024
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hannsolore · 2 months
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If King Charles dies on or before March 25th, 2024, he will technically be the shortest-reigning king in English history.
Anyway, like to charge, reblog to cast.
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fleabagoflowers · 17 days
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excitedly waiting for this
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bbglewis · 2 months
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FINALLY SOME GOOD NEWS
(Free Palestine 🇵🇸)
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destielmemenews · 2 months
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source 1
source 2
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kellinrk800 · 2 months
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TRISHA PAYTAS WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
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vinegutss · 2 months
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How we feeling this fine evening?
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didthekingdieyet · 7 hours
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march 27, 2024
no
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The most powerful moment of the coronation of King Charles III was not the gold glittering off carriages or epaulettes — not the pomp and show and signifiers of power.
It was precisely their opposite: when Charles shed his gold robes and stood in a thin white shirt, his frail humanity implied.
Then a screen was erected around him and, shielded, he had a private consultation with the Archbishop of Canterbury, who dabbed anointing oil with his hands on Charles’s bare breast.
"This was the most solemn and personal of moments,” Buckingham Palace said.
Charles was bare before God, in privacy, God being one of the last beings with no need to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
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The Princess of Wales looked on as the screen shielded her father-in-law.
By contrast, she was at that point the most magnificent she had ever been, swathed in layer upon layer of regality, the dress, the robes, the hanging chains, headpiece and ribbons all serving to move the viewing gaze — subjects in every sense — from our awareness of Catherine Middleton with her everyday human DNA and towards the shared fiction of her transcendent queenliness.
Less than a year later, this moment is remembered with new and terrible power.
It is spring again, but it’s a time of hard Lenten moral reflection for us as a nation, in relationship to our royals, as well as an ever more voraciously unprivate modern celebrity culture.
Both the King and the princess have cancer, the latter’s disclosed by Catherine in an unprecedented video address on Friday, March 22.
Catherine’s speech was something of a plea bargain in which she traded not only her customary silence but her most personal of health ordeals in order to put an end to toxic rumours swirling online that had become in tone like an unruly mob rattling at the palace gates.
Or rattling at the figurative locks on her medical notes, with three workers at the London Clinic, where she and the King were treated, suspended and under investigation for allegedly trying to access her records (hers, it is important to note, the King’s were unmolested).
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📷: Getty Images
What was so powerful about the anointing of the King was the sacredness of that space in which he could be fully human away from observation and judgment.
There should be another one-on-one consultation that is sacred, where anyone, from King to princess to pauper, can expect to be shriven in total privacy, and that is the sanctity of the medical room.
It used to be that priests were our only bound confidants, we could trust them to be privy to all our spiritual ills.
Now doctors are our secular priests: bound by law and ethics to enshrine confidentiality at the heart of the patient relationship.
As a result, our medical privacy in an age of oversharing and online surveillance feels both stranger and more necessary.
If we knew our every GP-inspected rash was to be posted on TikTok for the nation, many of us would quite literally die of embarrassment.
The King’s appointment behind the three-sided screen can now be viewed through the lens of royal illness.
The lavishly embroidered panels and expensive white shirt now replaced by the flimsy three-sided ward screen on wheels and thin hospital gown that can humble us all.
But it also enacts a principle at the very heart of becoming the monarch.
The medical-like screen is erected in the coronation to tell us there are some places the public cannot go; to tell us that there are sacredly personal moments in which a person, any person, however swathed in our projections of power, needs to be nakedly human.
Otherwise, they will go mad. We need to make sure the screens are erected around Catherine now.
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Much is said, quite a lot of it by Prince Harry himself, of the dangers of the wives of the princes repeating the tragic history of their mother, Princess Diana, hunted by photographers.
He remains phobic to any hint of tabloid persecution or paparazzi chase. But this is a sideshow, even an anachronism in 2024.
He and others have not recognised how the “chase” has changed. Who needs paparazzi when there are a billion citizen hacks ready to take pictures with their phones, in case a convalescing woman nips to a Windsor farm shop with her husband?
Instead, the appetite now is not to see but to know.
The royals used to have a contract with the public: we pay for them, and in return, they give us their presence.
Nearly all of their official job is to do with surface: to show up, to put in appearances at a set number of functions, whether at the opening of parliament or the opening of a leisure centre.
But now parts of the online mob seem to be staging a coup. We want more than the surface, we want to puncture the skin barrier of the royal family and occupy from the inside.
The “fans” have become an invasive virus. The royal analogy is often that they are trapped in a gilded zoo. This new model, instead, casts the royals more as lab rats.
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When Catherine disappeared from view in January after announcing a “planned abdominal operation,” the response from internet truthers was one of irate entitlement.
They are now the 1980s tabloids: ravening for intimacies and making stuff up when thwarted.
This wasn’t the boomer generation, who are both more respectful of the royals and more private about their own health.
It was the fortysomething mothers frustrated when they can’t track the phone location of everyone in their life; or the twentysomethings on Snap Map.
Both desperate for their personalised new Netflix season of “The Royals” to drop.
Catherine presents with such stoicism and dignity, it is easy to forget where this new invasiveness started: when she was pregnant with Prince George in December 2012 and hospitalised for extreme morning sickness.
While she was sleeping on the ward, a radio station in Australia rang the hospital switchboard pretending to be the Queen.
They broadcast the nurse’s comments about Catherine’s “retching.”
One could only find this prank funny if Catherine had already — a young, wretchedly ill, pregnant woman — been dehumanised.
George is now ten and his mother hospitalised again, and in that decade, the physical security of ill royals may have tightened but their claim to bodily autonomy seems to have weakened.
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Some say Kensington Palace “brought it on themselves” by their wish for discretion; this claim is duplicitous.
The late Queen Elizabeth II became increasingly debilitated in her final years with not much detail ever given; just as her father, King George VI, died without disclosing his lung cancer.
I’m glad that the British do not subject their heads of state to the same publicised medical reports as the president of the United States; one shouldn’t have to present a stool swab to sit on the throne.
No, instead the apparent justification of all those clicking and posting conspiracy theories “worried for Catherine’s welfare” was this sinful truth.
As a beautiful, 42-year-old mother of three, her drama was more box office than the ailments of those older, a pound of her flesh was worth more.
Pity, Susan Sontag said in her 1978 book Illness as Metaphor, is close to contempt.
Back then cancer was still taboo. Those around the patient, Sontag says, “express pity but also convey contempt.”
Ask any cancer patient and they will say they don’t want pity: it is too isolating, it sets them apart, an unwanted privilege.
This is why the video plea of Catherine was one of affinity, rather than pity or privilege.
Last year, she sat in robes in Westminster Abbey at the coronation of her father-in-law, next to her future king son and future king husband.
In her video address last week, she sat on a classically English garden bench, pale, alone and in jeans, as bare of pomp as any royal can be.
No mention of kings or titles, just Diana’s ring on her hand.
Rather she gave an appeal, parent to parent, human to human, about her “huge shock” and her care for her “young family.”
And, finally, her kinship with anyone who lives in a vulnerable human body susceptible to a democratic illness like cancer, “you are not alone.”
Or, to paraphrase Richard Curtis:
“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a public, asking for some time to endure gruelling chemotherapy."
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NOTE: Additional photos have been included in this article.
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cluusheen · 2 months
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i would just like to inform everyone a bit on how they’re taking charles’ diagnosis here in glasgow.. last night at pub trivia one of the teams named themselves “big chucks royal prostate”
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tyrannyofpetticoats · 11 months
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Only coronation coverage I cared about ❤️💙❤️❤️💙
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mwagneto · 2 months
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