The London bridge has fallen.
Black America brought rhythm and sound to the Queens church.
Where will this end?
Harry must have something against the stagnancy of the Royal family which consumed his mother.
How else can you describe so much rebellion in such a young man?
First he ditched water for wine.
Then he was expected to marry a young tender daughter of an aristocrat. Preferably a virgin. Harry loitered and loitered, and brought home a second hand wife.
If she was a white tokunbo she could have been manageable. But a divorcee daughter of a black Nanny?
And the sort of blackness with noses you find in Nigeria and Congo.
Harry left of the tender chicks in the UK and went for an older American with a freckled face. Were she still a Daddy’s daughter it could have been viewed with less disgust. But a wizened hustler who has made over 10 million dollars all by herself?
Harry must have something against the royal family.
Look at the wedding.
He imported an American pastor with black drama to rattle the solemnity of the occasion. The pastor came with boisterousness and impudence before the queen.
The queen’s church became unrecognizable. Radical gospel, black theatricals, and philosophy of the oppressed.
And Harry and Meghan seemed to be in rapture? They couldn’t comport themselves with royal dignity.
Imagine Just how that pastor kept talking about Jesus. And dying on the Cross.
It almost seemed rude to that audience!
That sermon on love. And fire. Sumptuous.
Then there was the choir. Megan brought her choir from Chicago.
A black gospel choir at an English Royal wedding.
And white English men and women looked on, bemused spectators, at their own event?
And how did I forget that wedding dress?
I have not seen any so elegant in recent times. Straight cuts. Nothing that squashes flesh. Simple. Uncomplicated. Rebellious again.
Harry and Meghan are on a mission.
They could give us a Congo charcoal black prince soon.
Ruthlessly unapologetic revolutionaries.