"You don't know what hell is unless you were raised in Scarsdale"

The royal cushion is delivered to the prince

Until now, that was my favorite quote, from a Columbia University "radical" back in 1968 — it started me on my journey to conservatism when I was just 14, but it's now been supplanted. It turns out, the world's leading eco-warrior, Prince Charles, has been harboring the same seething sentiments all this time: "Nobody knows what utter hell it is to be Prince of Wales".

Lots of great stuff in the linked article, and well worth reading in full, what with revelations of his traveling with his personal bedroom, replete with personal toilet seat and proper toilet paper, but I especially enjoyed this bit:

He was also unusually particular about his gardens at Highgrove. Because he refused to use pesticides, he employed four gardeners who would lie, nose-down, on a trailer pulled by a slow-moving Land Rover to pluck out weeds.

In addition, retired Indian servicemen were deployed to prowl through the undergrowth at night with torches and handpick slugs from the leaves of plants.

As a general rule, from the perspective of one whose ancestors were French nobility, only a few of whom escaped the mob, I'm against the regular use of the guillotine, but in this case, perhaps an exception could be made.