I don't think you quite comprehend that for many it isn't a huge moment. It might be for you. It isn't for me, and I imagine many others share my sentiment.
I'm not going to shed tears over a 96 year old woman, who has a led a life of imcomparable luxury ensconced in dozens of palaces around the country, passing away in the best possible comfort, with healthcare that peasants could only dream of until the very end. Nope. Not a fucking chance. My gran had to die in hospital this year, surrounded by few family members at a time, away from home and all the little she had left to cherish. I cried for her. But I'm not going to cry over this because the ubiquitous media and their royal lapdogs are telling me I should. Telling me we are grieving. Kindly fuck off.
Football is my life. I was due to go with my nephew this weekend. Those who wanted could have paid due respects at the game. Minutes silence, don the black armbands, get on with the match and with life.
Instead of that, I have to walk into the co-op for bread and milk whilst being serenaded by solemn music, then come out of the shop to see a billboard of her face, telling me once more I should be in a period of morning.
People are struggling to feed their kids and heat their houses. But next month, once again, we're going to apportion hard earned millions (tens of) to a state funeral. And for what? Is that going to help with people's bills?
As a nation we don't need to grieve, we need to give our priorities a stark recheck.