The Sketch: True to form, the biggest Queen of all presided over the gayest show in town

That was the third State Opening of Parliament I've been to and it was almost exactly the same as the first two. This tradition thing gets very repetitive. There must be more to it than meets the eye.

Do you read The Waning of the Middle Ages much? Johan Huizinga tells us the moral foundation of these antique ceremonial forms.

"Moral" is an odd word to use, you might think, in the context of the Royal Family just now. But the author tells us that towards the end of the Middle Ages the ethical element may have disappeared from ritual but "people still felt its aesthetic value, which marks the transition of these forms from sincere professions of affection to arid formalities of civility".

There'll be those who feel we are now well into the arid formalities. Others will still be susceptible to the aesthetic value. Some privileged few are aware of the ethical element: it's the gayest show in town. Why do the words "State Opening" suddenly signify "gay orgy"? Because you've got to show your dignified parts to get in. Gold Rod does very well, but the real stars are Black Rod and his gentlemen ushers. They're efficient as well as dignified. When it comes to the back stairs, they don't just rock, they rule.

Honestly, if ever I go the other way, Gold Stick in Waiting won't have to wait long. Nor would those guardsmen with ostrich plumes front and rear. And as for those outrageous courtiers by the throne, standing there holding their tapers erect ... They've been pointed at the end, you know, the tapers obviously, for reasons we needn't go into. As for Rouge Dragon Pursuivant, there's only two words for him: more rouge. Of course, the whole thing is presided over by the biggest Queen of them all.

She was looking fa-a-a-abulous. A retro hat like a little tower, winking and sparkling as the light caught the angles. Two hundred and fifty carats made it look like she had one of those random light generators on her head. If she ever needs a job in burlesque she'll go straight to the top. And she sat down and read out the speech we'd read in the Sunday papers. That sounded like last year too.

Down in the lower house. Mr Thing did perfectly well, though his furthest back bench looked down like Easter Island statues as he made his jokes, sallies and rhetorical flourishes. They're not impressed with Mr Thing, but can't summon the energy to do anything about it.

As Johan Huizinga says: "These futile forms become touching and their moral and civilising value become better understood, on remembering they emanated from the passionate soul of a savage race struggling to tame its pride and anger." The struggle, it seems, has been a little too successful in the case of the Tory party.

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