Maple Leaf Fields

Not All Royalists Are Equal (But Some Are Absolutely Feral) Let’s get one thing straight before the usual suspects start shrieking into their keyboards: criticism of Meghan and Harry is not, by default, derangement. People are allowed opinions. People are allowed preferences. People are even allowed to think the monarchy is a charming anachronism held together by pageantry, nostalgia, and the occasional blood diamond. That is not the subject of this book. This book is about the people who wake up thinking about Meghan Markle. Who goes to bed furious that Prince Harry still exists. Who speaks of two human beings with a level of obsession usually reserved for cult leaders, ex-spouses, or imagined enemies in totalitarian states. To understand the insanity, we first need to separate the merely misguided from the genuinely unwell and from the outright dangerous. Before the derangers start frothing, let’s establish a boundary, something they loathe more than facts. Criticism is not insanity. Disliking Meghan Markle does not automatically make someone deranged. Questioning Prince Harry’s choices does not require psychiatric intervention. People are allowed opinions, even bad ones. What they are not entitled to is the delusion that obsession equals insight, or that hatred dressed up as vigilance somehow becomes virtue. I’m not talking about disagreement. It is about fixation. It is about the people for whom Harry and Meghan are not public figures but psychological anchors. The kind of people who do not merely react to news about them but require it, feed on it, organize around it, and spiral without it. The ones who speak about two strangers with the intensity of a jilted lover and the moral certainty of a self-appointed inquisitor. Let’s be clear about what deranged really means. Under European psychiatric standards and the DSM-5-TR, derangement is not an insult. It is a pattern of behaviour marked by fixation, rigidity, and resistance to contradictory evidence. Obsession is not passion. Delusion is not opinion. Mania is not enthusiasm. Clinical definitions are boring in theory but enlightening in practice. Obsessive behaviour is intrusive, repetitive, ego-syntonic, and escalating rather than resolving. Delusions are fixed beliefs maintained despite overwhelming contradictory evidence. Paranoia interprets neutral events as hostile or conspiratorial. Manic patterns produce excessive output, grandiosity, and conviction in personal insight without evidence. If a person’s inner narrative collapses under evidence, they are ordinary humans. If evidence is twisted to reinforce obsession, welcome to the ecosystem. Most of the people screaming online are squarely in the twisting evidence category. They will insist this is just opinion while building multi-hour content archives about strangers they insist they do not care about. The blind and ignorant royalists are easy. They are background noise. They inherited loyalty the way one inherits one's great aunt's furniture, outdated, heavy, and never questioned. They believe what they are told because the institution has always told them what to believe. Their opinions are shallow, their engagement minimal, and their anger mild. When confronted with evidence, they often retreat, embarrassed but intact. They are not the problem. These are your garden-variety monarchists. They inherited their loyalty the way one inherits an accent or a recipe for overcooked roast beef. They read tabloids the way others read horoscopes: passively, uncritically, and with the vague sense that someone else has already checked the facts. They believe Meghan was difficult. They believe Harry was led astray. They believe the palace is fundamentally decent because they have always held that view. Show them evidence, timelines, receipts, and some of them, quietly, awkwardly, will reconsider. They don’t scream. They don’t stalk. They don’t fantasize about punishment. They are not the problem. The unwilling royalists are more interesting and far more useful to the machine. They insist they are progressive, modern, and deeply uncomfortable with bigotry, right up until that bigotry is packaged in broadsheet fonts and sanctioned silence. They experience discomfort as a performance art while providing cover. They say they hate the monarchy yet reflexively defend it. They do not want Meghan punished exactly; they just want her quiet, smaller, less disruptive, and more grateful. They insist they are not royalists, while spending an astonishing amount of time defending the institution. They trip over themselves to excuse racism, sexism, and cruelty when it wears a crown. Their favourite sentence begins with, “I don’t hate Meghan, but…” and ends somewhere between character assassination and moral panic. They experience visible cognitive dissonance. They squirm. They rationalize. They cling to complexity like a life raft. They are not malicious, but they are useful. They provide cover for the institution and the tabloids. They rely heavily on what has already been printed. They cite headlines rather than facts, tone rather than substance. When challenged, they gesture vaguely toward what everyone is saying, as if consensus alone confers legitimacy. But consensus does not emerge spontaneously. It is manufactured through repetition, placement, and silence. Then there are the derangers. The true believers. The ones for whom this stopped being commentary and became identity. Derangers do not consume information; they curate narratives. They track Meghan’s facial expressions as if decoding enemy signals. They analyze body language with the confidence of people who have never studied psychology but watched several videos claiming expertise. They build timelines that collapse under the lightest scrutiny yet feel unshakable to those who built them. They accuse others of obsession while producing multi-hour videos, daily posts, and encyclopedic archives dedicated to two people who allegedly mean nothing to them. What distinguishes the deranger is rigidity. No new information can penetrate. Contradiction is not evidence but an attack. Silence is guilt. Speech is manipulation. Context is an excuse. There is no outcome in which Harry and Meghan are anything other than villains, because villainy is the foundation upon which the entire worldview rests. Remove it, and the structure collapses. This rigidity is the diagnostic tell. Not anger. Not dislike. Inflexibility. The inability to revise a belief in the presence of evidence. The need to reinterpret every neutral act as hostile and every contradiction as confirmation of a conspiracy. This is not skepticism. It is a closed loop. The trolls are next in the line of succession and exist to say what institutions cannot say outright. They probe the edges of acceptable discourse, dragging it inch by inch toward the gutter. Once the language is dirty enough, the next version sounds reasonable by comparison. This is not accidental. It is how norms shift without anyone ever admitting they moved. They do not believe much of what they say, which somehow makes them worse. They understand the ecosystem and exploit it. They know which phrases trigger mobs, which insinuations travel fastest, which lies spread farthest before correction can catch them. They are not invested in outcomes, only engagement. They are loud. They are cruel. They are empty. At the bottom of this ecosystem is the Swamp Twat. Every movement has a bottom-feeder class, and this one is no exception. These are the people who cross from hatred into dehumanization: racial tropes, sexualized violence, fantasies of punishment, and eradication language. Meghan is not a person but a contaminant. Harry is not a man but a defective thing to be corrected. History recognizes this pattern immediately, even if they pretend not to. They would have flourished anywhere cruelty was normalized, and crowds provided cover. The target is incidental. The behaviour is the point. The Swamp Twat is tolerated by institutions. Their language is rarely condemned directly. Instead, it is ignored, minimized, or dismissed as fringe. Condemnation would require boundaries. Boundaries would require accountability. Accountability would disrupt profit and popularity. Tabloids gain clicks. The palace maintains optics. The Sussex Squad becomes collateral damage, framed as hysterical for responding to abuse disguised as discourse. The Swamp Twat is rewarded. Protected. Profitable. Obsession persists because institutions profit from it. This ecosystem did not arise organically. Obsession at this scale does not sustain itself without reinforcement. It requires validation, amplification, and reward. Derangers love to imagine themselves as lone truth-tellers bravely standing up to power. Cute. In reality, they are unpaid interns, performing free labour for tabloids and institutions that profit from their frenzy. Cruelty generates clicks. Rage sustains readership. Dehumanization keeps audiences returning, not because it is true, but because it feels deliciously sanctioned. Tabloids do not accidentally publish this content. Outlets like the Daily Mail and The Sun engineered it. They know exactly how much distortion can be printed before legal consequences arise, then stay just shy of it. Every insinuation is monetizable. Every outrage repeatable. Corrections reduce profit. The palace participates, silently, masterfully. Allowing Meghan to be publicly flayed preserves the illusion of stability elsewhere. Letting Harry be framed as unstable protects the orderly succession. Silence is not ignorance. It is calculated triage. In systems of power, permission is often expressed through absence. It is important to be precise here, because derangers love nothing more than being misunderstood. Mental illness is not hatred. Most people with mental illness are not violent, cruel, or obsessed with strangers. The pathology here is not diagnosis but disposition. Authoritarian thinking. Black and white morality. Group reinforced righteousness. The comfort of crowds that absolves individuals of responsibility. The intoxicating relief of having someone to blame. Hating Meghan and Harry is not the cause of these traits. It is the outlet. Criticism ends when curiosity ends. What replaces it is something uglier, smaller, and far more revealing. By the time someone is spending years of their life policing the existence of two people they will never meet, the question is no longer what Harry and Meghan have done. The question is what these people needed them to be. Criticism requires proportion. Obsession requires explanation. And that explanation will not be kind. (Let the countdown begin)

Damn..... we always said how much he looked like Phillip when he was younger but wow....

This week's photos of Willy trying to keep up are hilarious. The fact that he's even out doing "stuff" is huge, but he is legit trying to be as good as or better than his brother at "stuff" is even funnier. William is not athletic; he never has been. Everything is always set up and staged for him. Wouldn't it be something if he actually tried doing something he was actually good at? Oh, wait.....being a prick is usually frowned upon, isn't it?

Good King Harry.... Hands down the winner.

OMG... love it..... absolutely love it.... 🤣🤣🤣

This is a British Gentleman????? Really? I'd call that disgraceful behaviour. His mother would slap him senseless for such nonsense. Racist, arrogant... disgusting.... those are all appropriate words that fit, but certainly not a gentleman. Not even the same postal code.

I laughed so hard at this....

Reeks of desperation....

The day will come. I certainly hope the Earl Spencer will write what he knows about Charles, his horse and all the other frogs involved in this ridiculous tale and have it ready to print after he dies. Or better still, perhaps on the king's deathbed. So Chuck can think about Diana and Harry and how badly he treated them and how badly he let others treat them on his trip to hell.

This is one hell of a book..... I haven't even gotten halfway yet (audio, narrated by Charles himself), and already I can hear the dishes breaking at the palace.

They are so full of crap.... Diana's brother is sharp as a tack, and I'd believe him over anyone inside the palace any day of the week and twice on Thursdays.

Lord, he is so disconnected… It's beyond sad at this stage.

Wonder what the math would say about this statement.