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About Thatcher...
From various places on my flist:
Mark Steel: You can't just shut us up now that Margaret Thatcher's dead
(If someone robs your house, you don’t say: “I disagreed with the burglar’s policy, of tying me to a chair. But I did admire his convictions.”)
And finally, the poets always say it best:
A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General
By Jonathan Swift
His Grace! impossible! what dead!
Of old age too, and in his bed!
And could that mighty warrior fall?
And so inglorious, after all!
Well, since he’s gone, no matter how,
The last loud trump must wake him now:
And, trust me, as the noise grows stronger,
He’d wish to sleep a little longer.
And could he be indeed so old
As by the newspapers we’re told?
Threescore, I think, is pretty high;
’Twas time in conscience he should die
This world he cumbered long enough;
He burnt his candle to the snuff;
And that’s the reason, some folks think,
He left behind so great a stink.
Behold his funeral appears,
Nor widow’s sighs, nor orphan’s tears,
Wont at such times each heart to pierce,
Attend the progress of his hearse.
But what of that, his friends may say,
He had those honours in his day.
True to his profit and his pride,
He made them weep before he died.
Come hither, all ye empty things,
Ye bubbles raised by breath of kings;
Who float upon the tide of state,
Come hither, and behold your fate.
Let pride be taught by this rebuke,
How very mean a thing’s a Duke;
From all his ill-got honours flung,
Turned to that dirt from whence he sprung.
Mark Steel: You can't just shut us up now that Margaret Thatcher's dead
(If someone robs your house, you don’t say: “I disagreed with the burglar’s policy, of tying me to a chair. But I did admire his convictions.”)
And finally, the poets always say it best:
A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General
By Jonathan Swift
His Grace! impossible! what dead!
Of old age too, and in his bed!
And could that mighty warrior fall?
And so inglorious, after all!
Well, since he’s gone, no matter how,
The last loud trump must wake him now:
And, trust me, as the noise grows stronger,
He’d wish to sleep a little longer.
And could he be indeed so old
As by the newspapers we’re told?
Threescore, I think, is pretty high;
’Twas time in conscience he should die
This world he cumbered long enough;
He burnt his candle to the snuff;
And that’s the reason, some folks think,
He left behind so great a stink.
Behold his funeral appears,
Nor widow’s sighs, nor orphan’s tears,
Wont at such times each heart to pierce,
Attend the progress of his hearse.
But what of that, his friends may say,
He had those honours in his day.
True to his profit and his pride,
He made them weep before he died.
Come hither, all ye empty things,
Ye bubbles raised by breath of kings;
Who float upon the tide of state,
Come hither, and behold your fate.
Let pride be taught by this rebuke,
How very mean a thing’s a Duke;
From all his ill-got honours flung,
Turned to that dirt from whence he sprung.
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And that was a great essay. I know it's taboo to speak ill of the dead, but there's no reason you can't speak ill of someone's policies and choices in life, especially when they were so harmful. To not do so invites history repeating itself.
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I'd not come across it before, but found it extraordinary how people/the world doesn't change...
To not do so invites history repeating itself.
Indeed. And the whitewashing is... well, offensive to those she hurt.
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Neither of them get much love or sympathy from me. I'm still living in the aftermath of their regimes. And my new 'protectors' think they were genuises...*spits*
Poem has it right. Loved the article. But so we think she'd make it that far to St. Peter's Gate?
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It's... unpleasant to watch. :(
But so we think she'd make it that far to St. Peter's Gate?
Wellllll. According to Dante she might go to heaven (only God would know) but she would probably spend a few centuries (or millennia) on Mount Purgatory first. I'll have to look up which cornice she'd be on...
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I think she would, but like I say about a few of my relatives- they're going to get to the great Pearl-y Gates, and St. Peter's gonna be like "Yo, Jesus! Get my camcorder! We got another case of 'I was a good person in life and went to church every Sunday'!" And then some other poor angel'll be tasked with dragging in a ton of file cabinets on everything that person's done in life.
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It really does!
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If you don't believe in society, why should society believe in, or care about, you? At the end of the day, for many to mourn would be either hypocrisy or the final heap of burning and shaming coals. Because at the end of the day she ruined peoples lives with her policies. Why do we expect people whose lives have been ruined to mourn the source of their misery?
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