Prince Harry has once again graced a stage, this time sharing his “infinite wisdom” with a room full of venture capitalists at The Upfront Summit in Los Angeles. His speech began with the kind of profound statement that only someone who’s never held a real job could deliver: *“As a man born into a life of service, I recognize that with power and a platform comes responsibility.”*
Noble words, indeed. I’m sure the employees who faced bullying under his leadership, the disillusioned staff at BetterUp, and the victims of the African Parks scandal would wholeheartedly agree. And let’s not forget his past missteps—like the time he paraded around in a Nazi uniform or was caught dropping racial slurs on camera. Nothing screams “responsibility” like a history of tone-deaf blunders.
But the real highlight of his speech came when he quipped, *“So I dropped it like a hot rock and ran off with my therapist to California. Give me your money. Thank you.”* Ah, yes—the classic tale of responsibility: running away from duty, demanding endless perks, and somehow convincing gullible Americans that he’s an authority on, well, anything.
Harry’s appearance at the event was about as well-received as a wet sock. What was billed as a “surprise appearance” felt more like an unwanted intrusion. The audience, likely expecting insights into venture capital and entrepreneurship, instead found themselves held hostage to yet another lecture from a man who mistakes self-pity for wisdom.
Within minutes, the room was filled with suppressed yawns, sideways glances at phones, and desperate attempts to feign interest. Attendees who had paid top dollar for the event were probably wondering if the coffee station was still open as Harry droned on about his “unique perspective” with all the enthusiasm of a malfunctioning audiobook.
At one point, Harry tried to bolster his credibility by bringing up fatherhood. *“As a dad, I’m constantly looking for solutions,”* he said. Oh, please. As if simply reproducing makes someone an expert on the future. By that logic, every middle-aged man with a questionable parenting record should be leading summits.
And let’s not forget, this is the same guy who admitted to being so distraught when Meghan left him alone for a few days that he had to take magic mushrooms and talk to his mother’s ghost. Yes, this is the voice of reason we should all be listening to.
Then came another gem: Harry noted that his royal upbringing gives him a “unique apolitical perspective” on most subjects. *“Hell, I’ve never even been allowed to vote,”* he joked. While it’s true that royals traditionally refrain from voting, there’s no actual law preventing it. But sure, keep blaming everyone else for your lack of awareness. Something tells me this guy wouldn’t know the difference between a referendum and a restaurant reservation.
His entire speech, likely written by ChatGPT or an intern Googling buzzwords that make rich people nod, was peppered with the word “service.” He repeated it as if he were some great humanitarian, rather than a man who’s spent the last four years whining about his sacrifices from the comfort of a $14 million mansion.
Another comedic highlight: *“I’m not one to be caught in the divide between left or right views, not cornered by a belief in blue or red.”* Except, of course, for the time he called the First Amendment “bonkers,” aligned himself with the Aspen Institute, and managed to alienate half of America within a few short years. But sure, he’s totally neutral.
Let’s take stock: too unmotivated for university, too unskilled to progress in the military (so he quit), abandoned his royal duties but still demands royal benefits, spends minimal time with his kids, complains endlessly while living off the wealth and status he pretends to hate, and gets paid absurd amounts to spout nonsense to rooms full of people who immediately start checking their watches.
In conclusion, Harry’s surprise speech was about as welcome as a telemarketer call at dinner time. The only shocking thing? That anyone still pays him to talk.
