did the british royal family fire all their publicists

self-awareness has reached a critical low at headquarters

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If you've been watching/reading my ~content~ for a while now, you might remember that I used to talk about the royals a bit more than I do now. I've always considered it a fascinating little topic. I do find it ridiculous that, in 2023, royalty exists anywhere in any functional or significant capacity, but without ascribing much emotional value to it, and for as long as it does remain in existence, I'll confess that the system — and the individuals who make it up — makes for interesting material worthy of observation. 

It's not silly, in my view, to question and examine the continuing presence of an institution, one so staunchly resistant to change, whose value and utility have long expired.

What I discovered over the last couple of years, however, is that many people — really, many more than I thought — do ascribe emotional value to the subject. Like, a lot. And I can appreciate people caring different amounts about the same topic, but it's part of why I've stepped back a bit from the royal content: it's not as fun when the gulf between my point of view (of the I'm Just Having Fun and Isn't This Interesting variety) and that of a certain vocal minority (of the How Dare You Speak Ill of Their Royal Highnesses, You Ignorant American Cow variety) is so vast. Lucky for me, I have other curiosities.

A few days ago, though, three of my passing interests intersected to create the perfect storm: the British royal family, bad publicity, and football (I may be American, but I am beginning to draw the line at calling it soccer, I fear — self-love and all that).