Perplexingly, the world seems to have worked itself into a lather about a TV interview that could induce narcolepsy in horses. As far as I understand, Prince Harry is famous because he is the second son of the next King of England, and his wife is, well, married to him.
They decided to leave the family business in order to lead private, independent lives. That is to say, lives that remain dependent on those family ties but without the shiftwork. And as it happens, a massively hyped interview with arguably the most famous interviewer on the planet was the selected method of melting away into obscurity.
This is somebody who pledges to own his goals and just progresses to score own goals.
In the course of the crass chinwag, Harry did state that he did not want to see history repeat itself, which did at least clarify for the audience that he had never heard of Martin Bashir.
As for the shock revelations, you would have to understand their context and delivery in order to take a view, and we never got that. But if an accusation is worth levelling, it ought to be made substantially. Don’t use the arguably the largest TV platform on the planet for petty intrigue with a comment more fitting for a teenage sub-tweet.
Talk about dirty linen and all that.
The now-infamous enquiry about the baby’s potential skin colour probably paled into insignificance to the uproarious hilarity caused when the family must also surely have pondered whether the kid might be another ginge.
It is all of course eminently feasible that the couple’s bad press is simply rooted in their perceived desire to want to have their cake and eat it, but being a struggling no-mark does not get you prime-time Winfrey.
Or maybe it does?
Still, if they want to shine a light on racism, there is plenty of obvious systemic inequality to tear down rather than blowing the gaffe on a private family discussion just to settle a few scores with the rotters who chopped down the money tree.
As if to accentuate the warped narratives further, Twitter wags have now been slammed for their ‘racist’ suggestions that Oprah in fact looked like ex-England footballer Ian Wright, dressed up as Mrs Doubtfire.
Amazingly, they never got as far as shoehorning in the transphobic angle, so Robin Williams can rest easy that the wacko fringes will not be screaming for an exhumation.
Makes you wonder, though, who they think she did look like? Alan Shearer?
It’s what we get for tuning into Trash of the Day.