As all the world knows, a general election has been called in the United Kingdom. The exact date is always within the gift of the Prime Minister, the only rule being that every constituency must choose its Member of Parliament at least once every five years.
Gordon Brown was dead out of time when he finally confirmed he would go to the country on 6 May 2010; the last Parliament was elected on 5 May 2005.
Once an election is called, Parliament has only a few days to deal with any pending legislation. First there is prorogation, and then there is dissolution. In between, there is the wash-up.
During the wash-up the government quietly drops anything especially controversial, and Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition agrees not to grumble; there isn’t time for the usual debate as bills progress through the House of Commons to the Lords and back again.
Instead the Clerk of the Parliament reads out each remaining bill, and then, as if the very language brings special magic, the Clerk begins speaking Norman French: never mind our usual democratic processes, the Queen wills it.
Royal assent comes in a form Chaucer would have found familiar in the Customs House of 14th century England. Hundreds of years later, willy nilly, law is still made.
Quietly lost in last week’s wash-up was a bill that would have added 10 pence to the price of (alcoholic) cider.
Saved was the Digital Economy Bill, which Her Majesty vicariously willed into law in Parliament’s last minutes. I am told that, among other things, this bill means households caught pirating software, music, movies or television could have their internet access cut off. I guess that pretty much includes any UK household with teenage children.
Never mind, though internet lights may be going out all over Britain, parents can still drown their sorrows in cheap cider.
La reine le veult.
spoken not like a true native.
thank you for visiting my blog, but we have met in the past, haven’t we? did I visit you?
Heavens, blogging gets harder for the old, anyway that’s my excuse.
As for the election business, I am already sick of it. Even if I had a vote, I would find it very hard to get up enough enthusiasm for any of the parties. Politicians are a species of human I’d rather not think about. I know we need them under democratic rules, but i’d much rather live under a benevolent dictatorship. I’d even offer myself for the role of dictator.
Comment by friko — April 11, 2010 @ 2:49 pm
Most importantly, did you find out whether you will be able to vote??
Comment by Janet — April 12, 2010 @ 1:21 am
I once wrote an article for eHow.com on the provisions of a recycling bill that Parliament had passed. I was stunned to see that the text for the entire bill was no more than two pages long (including the proviso for the exceptions to the bill in Wales and Scotland). And clearly understandable. Do you know that the text for the new health care legislation in the U.S. is well over 1000 pages? And in such ridiculous legalese that it takes a team of lawyers to interpret?
Comment by middle-aged-woman — April 12, 2010 @ 7:24 am
I second Janet’s question – were you able to vote?
The Young One tried to download some pirated software of off Pirate Bay, and his computer was totally fried by a particularly nasty virus. He didn’t tell us how he got the virus, but his older brother did, and we came down on him with both feet – I could say that since we develop software for a living, we do NOT approve of piracy in any way, shape, form or fashion, but it’s stealing, and we don’t approve of THAT, either.
Between that and the fact he was without a decent computer for about 3 months (we were planning on buying him a new one for his birthday anyway), I’d say our internet connection would be safe if we were subjects of Her Majesty.
Comment by Jan — April 12, 2010 @ 8:42 am
Why do people say the Queen is a figurehead? Obviously she is very powerful.
Comment by Hattie — April 22, 2010 @ 12:23 pm