During the last week, the disingenuousness of the rabble-rousing Socialist press has plumbed new depths. In fact, in the last few days, they truly dived the Mariana Trench of modern journalism. They have taken every opportunity to vilify a confused 87 year-old lady who finished her days not within the homely intimacy of family life but in a London hotel surrounded by hired help. We may deduce that in her final days, not only the gutter press but even her own family failed her. They all failed to deliver on something quite prosaic….Humanity.
Luckily, with the whole world watching, the British people did deliver. They stood and threw flowers. They cheered and they clapped. Admittedly, there were a few morons who turned their backs and jeered at Margaret Thatcher’s coffin as it passed – but WHY? At whom was their gesture aimed? Obviously not at La Thatcher because she was dead. Was it aimed at the world? That could not have been the case because these were mostly sad , anonymous small people and their 5-seconds of TV fame would not even have registered.
It was all pointless, as were the “parties” and protests organised by those massively over-romanticised Men with Shovels who used to dig coal from the ground. Get over yourselves, lads!
Inside St Paul’s, a tear flowed down Chancellor Gideon’s cheek. He appeared to be blubbering over his spiritual heroine. What’s wrong with that? Does that make him a wimp? Only in the jaundiced eye of the Socialist hack. Here’s just one of today’s headlines: “A CYNICAL attempt to prove he’s human!”
We ALL cry – or should I say….we all SHOULD cry.
I cried when I held my first child. I cried even more when the fifth one arrived. I cried when I touched my father’s cold face as he lay in his coffin. I always cry when I hear “O Holy Night”. I’ve cried watching a screaming man burn to death in an upturned mangled car. I cried when the police called me to attend an accident and I saw two dead kids. One was still holding his teddy bear…..and I always cry at funerals because they remind me of stuff which I don’t normally think about.
I am not a wimp and neither is George Osborne. There is nothing wrong with empathy, compassion and humanity.
Tomorrow and over the weekend, bullshit-hardened Socialist hacks will be ladling bucketloads of their own brand of cynicism over us like sub-zero Vichyssoise. The Chancellor has given them “an angle”.
The protesters – the anti-Thatcher brigade – are not just angry at a lady who they believe wronged them, their families or their friends. They are angry at a malformed distorted legend fed by a million words of misrepresentation, exaggeration and embellishment. It’s been going on for over forty years, starting on rattly old battered Remingtons in peeling hot Fleet Street offices in the middle of town and will finally end somewhere south of the Thames on nice new Flat Screens in the air-conditioned splendour of a newspaper office somewhere on an industrial estate. THAT’S how long this great lady was among us.
Then…..when you’ve all had your fun………….may she finally rest in peace.