Pull yourselves together and stop with the undignified salivation Australia!

STOP with the undignified salivation and stop losing your nana over the fifth in line to the throne. Harrysteria is getting embarrassing, says Jo Thornely.

The crowd was pumped! You’d think Kim was visiting. Picture Cameron Richardson

WHAT is responsible for more work absences in Sydney this week than chickenpox?

What has proven that Australian military-issue camouflage fatigues have virtually no effect on one’s visibility to observers?

What encourages girls to throw themselves at a man they’ve never even met?

Prince Harry wandering around the Opera House steps for a bit is what. Pull it together with your undignified salivation, Sydney. We haven’t spent all this time being laid-back larrikins just to lose our nana over the fifth in line to the throne, surely.

I know I’m going to be called a spoilsport, but I simply do not understand or share the Harry hysteria. Harrysteria?

With the exception of having their name associated with a relatively successful line of handbags, in this kind of meet-and-greet context, what makes the Royal Family anything more than The Kardashians Of Windsor?

Among wedding proposals, schoolchildren on excursions away from learning things of comparatively robust importance, and sponsored signs screaming ‘HARRY FOR PM’ that fundamentally misunderstand the Australian political process, HRH Prince Henry of Wales kind of walked around and waved a bit.

I’d dare to venture that Harry is merely famous for being famous, just like the Kardashians. He’s not even Kim, for heaven’s sake. He’s Kourtney, at best.

Sure, he’s out here for a month-long work experience stint with the Australian Army, but there are loads of soldiers who no doubt deserve fanfare and offers of a pash with a stranger just as much, if not more, than Prince Harry.

Definitely, the royal family does loads of charity work and lends its presence and name to umpteen good causes, civic events, and British pub names. But again, there are many, many people who work tirelessly every day to contribute to causes and charities, and they hardly ever get choppered in to Sydney’s most recognisable landmark to hundreds of squeals of delight.

From news sites and social media just in the last half-day, some over-the-top reactions to Hot Harry’s Bennelong Point Half-Hour have just cemented my opinion that events such as this are a giant waste of money, security, helicopters, and time out of Mike Baird’s busy day.

Spectator claims that they ‘may never get this chance again’ are correct, but that’s not the point. They may also never get the chance to arm-wrestle Marcia Hines or deep-fry a meerkat, but that’s not really going to change anything, is it?

Sure, it’s often exciting to meet a celebrity, but generally only if they’ve done something exciting. Written your favourite song, acted in your favourite show, modelled your favourite designer, or unfortunately less often, invented your favourite piece of life-changing technology or cured your least favourite disease.

But the global hysteria surrounding a brief, frequently-interrupted walk by a perfectly nice guy who has done nothing more remarkable than many other perfectly nice guys (except for be born in the right place and marginally improve the world’s opinion of gingers) has me flummoxed.

The fact that women in the crowd at the Opera House (alas no men that I’m aware of, but we’ll get there) were proposing marriage to Harry is even more astounding. Anyone who’s ever watched Game Of Thrones knows that aspiring to marry into the royal family can have truly dire consequences.

Don’t take the afternoon off because you want to be Sansa Stark to the United Kingdom’s Kourtney Kardashian. Do something useful instead.

Maybe write a column poo-pooing pointless things that clearly bring joy to hundreds of people. I hear some pretty cool people do things like that.

Wait — I apologise.

I’ve just read on four different international news websites that earlier this week Prince Harry bought a pork roll from a shop.

I’m so sorry, I had no idea.

Jo Thornely doesn’t get enough attention at her day job, so she writes for news.com.au, takes up way too much bandwidth on the internet, and loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her on Twitter @JoThornely

Originally published as Pull yourselves together and stop with the undignified salivation Australia!