6:38 AM CDT, September 24, 2012
The world often feels like a hate-filled and contentious place to call home. Abroad, we see terrorist attacks, riots, vitriolic reactions to vitriolic speech, murder in reaction to bigotry while at home we are in the midst of a bitter election season fueled by an orgy of money and cross-talking spite. Amidst all this contempt and disagreement, can we, at the very least, all get together and as one people, one nation of humanity, one unbroken chain of human voices, agree that Kate Middleton just looks fantastic topless?
Now count me as a person who could not care less about the pointless vicissitudes of the figurehead monarchy of a once-powerful empire reduced to gallant displays of hyper-consumption to fuel the fantasy of its own relevance. I could give a shit.
However, I will also fully admit that Kate Middleton is one classy, gorgeous babe. She’s so totally striking and, in every instance of her public life, so effortlessly charming, that she has single-handedly grown in me a nascent interest for the doings of the Royal Family—so long as they’re Middleton-related. Therefore, when news of topless photographs hit the internet, my ears perked up, my eyes widened, and I basically dropped everything I was doing in order to find these mythic photographs as immediately as possible. Literally, my entire life improved after that.
Look, feminist Off the Markley readers, I know. This is not a blog that condones misogyny in any form, and I promise if I ever make a billion dollars I’ll build a series of schools for young girls across the developing world, but I mean, like, c’mon: Have you seen these pics of Kate Middleton topless?
“Breathtaking” is a word we should remove from the dictionary and hand back to the English language, saying, “Come up with something better, you lame-ass language.”
To call Kate Middleton topless “stunning” is like calling the Beatles “a bunch of yokels from Liverpool.” It’s like calling World War II “a dustup between pals.” It’s like calling the entire Renaissance “a neat little period for painting and stuff.”
I know the Royal Family is none too happy about this, especially after Prince Harry’s internet fame, and to some extent I understand their annoyance. As someone who fully expects that someday a really nasty sex-tape of him will turn up, I totally get where they’re coming from. Even the most famous among us are still entitled to a bit of privacy. Yet at the same time, they should understand that pictures of Kate Middleton topless probably stopped several hundred-thousand suicides the day they appeared. They probably momentarily reversed climate change and saved several million newborn babies from malaria. They probably made the entire world 12% happier and kinder the day they came out.
Therefore, in my semi-official capacity as America’s best judge and ambassador to the world of classy topless pics, I thank Kate Middleton for sunbathing on that specific day and for making me a better man—a better friend, son, brother, and father to generations unborn—by allowing me to see her preposterously beautiful naked breasts and discovering one small island of consensus for humankind.
I think that’s something we can all agree on.
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