High life
!loyal affairs
laki 'El)ka hereditary monarchy is a biological ttr !ander. Princes constitute a race unique in t World for their stupidity.' The author of „ue above wisdom is a man familiar to all of us+ He is hot, however, a left-wing member uhfLabour's executive, neither a trade union p!aVie, nor Jean-Paul Sartre, Europe's Most Stalinist. He is, rather, Herr Adolf vehlekelgruber, better known under his u.r°Pted maternal name of Hitler. p he rhetoric sounds familiar, but the htlehrer's opinions on royal perspicacity teufve not been copied verbatim by certain MPs. Paraphrased perhaps, OProved upon maybe, but not plagiarised. °fortunately, however, and despite the n'ugust company Herr Schickelgruber's b.-ons now keep, they have once again ree.a proved to be adjusted to hide embar,..asIng truths The facts, you see, point to the ,ontrary. thAlthough the species least trained to utk, and uniquely unqualified for busorriess, dethroned royals have proved as VieedY as Britt Ekland and as successful as , t 'clot' Matthews once they are committed s° the rat race. Prince Victor Emmanuel of elv°Y, the crown prince of Italy, is a perfect fort In point. Exiled at a very early age, the ifYlear-old Victor grew up under rather eatted circumstances. Having lost the dos„st referendum possible, the family left Italy unlike leaders of banana republics who
more often than not leave at night and with the treasury aboard their yacht. And unlike his father who decided to settle in Estoril, the Portuguese playground, Victor Emmanuel went into business as soon as he became of age. The giant Italian conglomerate Augusta recognised the public relations potential and hired him as a 'consultant'. His salary would have brought trade union thunderbolts upon Augusta heads had the prince belonged to one, but he nevertheless persevered. In fact, he became so successful that he soon branched out on his own. After the first million at the age of thirty he married a commoner (and a very common woman at that) and then proceeded to make another nine, give or take a million. Half of the choppers whirling around the Middle East have been sold by him and the end is hardly in sight.
Needless to say, detractors attribute his success to his connections rather than his business acumen, but the facts do speak for themselves. Although royals are damned whether they do well or not, Victor Emmanuel's business successes debunk certain theories about blue-bloods. In fact one wonders how many of the detractors —MPs, trade unionists, journalists — could emulate him. After all, they have connections too. But the list goes on. Michael of Rumania, ex-king and son of playboy king Carol, was brought up to worry only when his Ruritanian uniforms were copied by Hollywood designers. He now owns and successfully manages an electronics industry. Connections no doubt. Alexander Romanoff, a grand nephew to the last Tsar, is also doing better than his illustrious ancestor. He designs and sells fake jewellery and in these days to be known to wear fake jewellery can save one's life. Romanoff is making a fortune selling jewels which are fake and, most important, look fake.
Leka of Albania, son of King Zog, the first and last Albanian monarch, not only disproves the parasite theory, he also debunks the insidious rumour spread throughout the years by shorties: that short is more beautiful, more intelligent, more successful and sexier, while tall is dumb. Leka is seven feet tall, enjoys great success with the ladies, possesses an Albanian intelligence, which puts him on a par with the hypothetical situation of a JewArab-Armenian-Greek.
Although the capitalist-royal list is long, it is even longer where the arts are concerned. This space, however, is dealing only with the former. The large companies which employ blue-bloods insist that the dooropening capabilities are only part of the attraction. The honesty of the royals makes them perfect organisation men. They can hardly disappear with the payroll or sell secrets.
Which brings us to Princess Margaret. If she takes up the invitation of a female writer and goes to work (as if she was idle now) cries of disapproval would follow her. 'She is using her relationship to the Queen' etc). Maybe it is better for her to continue to keep the company of virile young men. The publicity and outcry she generates keeps MPs and journalists of the left from having to face such superficial subjects as Ethiopia's campaign of civilian murders, Cuban-led massacres also of civilians in Angola, the murder of three innocent youths by heroic Botswana border patrols, and here at home the NUR's decision to employ only those whose political ideology they approve of. Viva Roddy.
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