The tale of the rude jester.

In this morning’s “Office Hours” section of The Guardian, is a huge picture of English Heritage’s pro jester Peet Cooper. My thoughts rolled back to an astonishing summer back in the 1980’s, when Borkowski was publicising Royal Britain, a visitor attraction in the heart of the Barbican. The owner, Lord Bradford employed a jester, one James Lovell to entertain the hoards waiting to get in to sample the delights of the show. My memory fails to recollect the content of the museum, but I think it evoked stirring imagery of the empire, complete with lashings of pomp and circumstance. To cut a very long story short, Lovell, in his bells and tunic, took upon himself to crack jokes on the modern monarchy; gentle innuendos on the contemporary members of the House of Windsor: Di, Fergie, Andrew and Charles. The jokes were a little risqué and much to the chagrin of the management, the joker refused to censor his material. After a warning he was relieved of his post, but refusing to accept his dismissal, James picketed the exhibition, which generated huge amounts of coverage across the media universe. If the nation and the world had not heard of Royal Britain, they did after this.  The row went on for weeks, providing vital oxygen for publicity.  Every time I see an image of a man in purple velvet,  tabard fringed with gold bells, I immediately remember the joy of Royal Britain