Mid-week I recorded an episode of ‘Piers Morgan Uncensored’ where the veteran YouTuber was incandescent with rage over the royal tour Down Under.
And Piers is not alone.
You can be rest assured that the old Mother Country is smarting at the moment, with Britain’s press pack exhibiting a clear case of FOMO.
Scratching around the edges of Harry and Meghan’s escapade in Australia, carping at the sidelines about the unedifying price of certain ticketed events, and slamming Harry for his “four-day-jolly’’.
So keen is Blighty to insert itself into the story, the visit is being dubbed by The Sun’s Royal Editor Matt Wilkinson as a “dummy run’’ and “testing ground’’ for a mooted joint tour of the UK later this year.
Meanwhile, a well-timed press release from the Palace concerning the King’s controversial state visit to Trump’s America speaks to a thirst for Britain’s remaining royals to be centre stage.
All of which begs the question, why does the UK care so much about Megs and Haz on tour in Australia?
Yes, they’re annoying when they talk about themselves.
And hypocritical too; Harry’s expansive lament at Melbourne Park on Thursday: “After my mum died just before my 13th birthday – I was like ‘I don’t want this job. I don’t want this role wherever this is headed. I don’t like it’.”
“I don’t like it” caused a national eye roll.
After all, if the job was so goddamn awful, why is he still parading around in a constitutional monarchy, gladhanding his father’s subjects?
As for Meghan, apparently she couldn’t handle the trolling when in the royal household, which begs the question: how is she managing the current fall out from her philanthropic/ paid endeavours in Australia?
All in all, the pair have a unique capacity to trigger.
But the sheer scale of venom launched against the Sussexes this week speaks to something darker lurking in the recesses of Great Britain’s psyche.
By aping the royal game for what it is: a well-funded jolly with a dash of charity work in one of Charles’s (endangered) Kingdoms, Harry and Meghan threaten the delicate ecosystem upon which monarchy depends.
Already weakened from the ongoing Epstein scandal, the Sussexes’ showboating Down Under leaves the Royal Family exposed.
Previously, headlines concerning an acquisitive Meghan, partaking in an exorbitant retreat, popping up as a judge on Australian Master Chef and ducking out for a whole day to attend ‘’business’’ meetings, would have rallied fresh troops around the royal flag.
How dare the ‘Difficult Duchess’ withdraw for 24 hours to cash in on her (made in Britain) fame and fortune.
But in the wake of the Andrew catastrophe, financial attacks on the Duchess have less quarter with the general public.
People in glass houses should not throw stones.
Of course, that doesn’t stop us having a moan, quite the reverse.
Piers Morgan was adamant, if Andrew has lost his title then so should Harry.
But Piers speaks for the old guard.
Times are changing and formalities out of fashion.
“Just call me Meg” Australian well-wishers were assured by the same Duchess widely lampooned last year for the ceremonial-style introductions she insisted on.
As for the Duke, people were invited to address him “however you like” at a National Veteran’s Art Museum in Melbourne.
Even Meghan and Harry have worked out titles are not what they once were.
Again, this is uncomfortable terrain for Britain.
On the whole, we love to bask in the reflected glory of our royal brand but right now all cameras are focused on Harry and Meghan in a giant free advert for Australia (surely worth the security costs?)
If Australia doesn’t like the self-serving Sussex love-in at least people are watching.
In Britain we are stuck with two lame duck Princesses (Beatrice and Eugenie anyone?) and awful Andrew.
No one is going to pay to see that.
Even Trump’s declarations of devotion for our old King didn’t shift the dial.
Coming an hour after Buckingham Palace released a statement on the King and Queen’s pending pop-over to America, the US president insisted the King was a ‘”great gentleman”, a “fantastic person”, a “friend of mine”.
But mired in an unpopular war, infamous for his unhinged ramblings, the President’s royal endorsements don’t carry the weight they once did.
Considered essential soft power for beleaguered Britain (according to the IMF we will be the worst hit of all G20 economies by rising energy prices), Trump’s bromance with the King is unlikely to mend the “tragic” rift between Prime Minister Starmer and the President.
Meanwhile persistent questions over Epstein add to the fraught nature of the visit.
If only the monarchy had a spare Prince full of vim who could woo the rest of the world, Harry-style.
And if only Harry could keep his mouth shut, royal style.
And therein lies the unspoken tragedy behind the Sussexes’ Australian visit.
In a world full of strongmen, the transcendent glamour of hereditary monarchy should have a quaint, reassuring appeal: the royal walk about, the gilded life of service, the inexplicable mystic that draws throning crowds onto streets with flags and abundant good cheer.
More’s the pity that these days, when we need it most, the ancient royal brand is fractured and compromised.
Harry’s painful session on parenthood in Melbourne highlighted the continuing rift between father and son.
Eight years on from their royal tour of Australia, today Harry and Meghan feel so much more tawdry, pushing their commercial “Brand Sussex’’ as they burnish their woke credentials, while back home in Britain the old King braces himself for a stormy session in the White House with a warlord President.
If only one could reach out to the other and make the family whole again, the monarchy might start speaking for the majority once more – a much needed royal glue to knit the lovers and the haters back together.
But if happy endings are what you are looking for, these days the only safe bet are the princes and princesses you find in fairy stories.
Tessa Dunlop is the author of Elizabeth and Philip, the story of young love, marriage and monarchy.