A day which starts with an extended dream
taking its inspiration from a combination of Midsomer Murders and The Walking
Dead is never a good sign. And, even
though I survived (naturally) the carnage, it left me weary and, at the tail
end of the dream, trying to convince a sceptical reporter that I knew “all the
facts” and that “I could tell him so much that his career would be made!” Things were getting progressively more
complicated when the blessed alarm went off and more mundane realities
truncated illusory slaughter and its aftermath!
The action may have been unreal but the
weariness is with me now and that sense of other-worldliness stays! Though I am sure that such whimsicality will
be dissipated by my first contact with the clients!
There was a glorious sunrise as I came to
school this morning with a burning, searing blaze from the low rising star. That magnificence has been moderated into a
much more hazy day with brightly-dull weather.
I am feeling quite alienated from what is
going on in school and this is exacerbated by the fact that I arrive early and
my first lesson is not until 10 o’clock.
I therefore sit facing the door and watch successions of people come in
and out, fussing about their own business.
And I sit impassively watching the world go by. This gives me time to settle in and become
more disgruntled (because a lesson delayed is a lesson threatened) until the
pressing concerns of adolescent youth deflect my own introspection into
something more responsive!
The most productive thing I have done so
far is to have an internal debate with myself in “And do I dare” T S Eliot
style about having another cup of my individually packaged and blended tea
mixture. I have eventually, after
prolonged and indolent internal discussion decided to forego the pleasure and
wait, allowing delayed gratification to make more piquant the flavour of the
tea when I finally drink my second cup!
MARGARET
THATCHER IS DEAD!
The news that I have been waiting to hear
for years has finally been broadcast!
I am the first to say that the illustration I have chosen is cheap, inappropriate, unfair and crass. And frankly, my dear, I couldn't give a damn!
Yes, I know that rejoicing at a human’s
death is demeaning at best and bestial at worst. But this is Margaret Thatcher; a woman whose
policies I have loathed ever since that milk-snatching bitch was made Minister
of Education.
Her use of the Falklands Conflict to
bolster her retention of power was sickening in its self-seeking indifference
of any concept of morality. Her denial
of community, her treatment of the Unions, her disgusting approach to the
Miners’ Strike, her promotion of self, her anti-cultural, anti-BBC,
anti-anything that I care about attitude means that I can feel little sympathy
for her passing.
Obviously I feel for her family, but for
her – I feel nothing but . . . and there is the problem. I find it difficult to find the right word to
express my long-standing something or other about her life, policies and
politics! I suppose I could dedicate my
life to finding the right word to encapsulate my feelings for That Woman!
I have, at last, lit the Margaret Thatcher
candle that my mother bought be so many years ago. As I look at her slowly burning on the table,
her blue bouffant hair has gone and she looks as though the Holy Ghost has
sliced the top of her head off and taken up residence in the middle of her cranium!
I have washed out my unfeasibly long
millennium glass and filled it with my favourite Cava. And I have drained it many times. Even Toni has taken a token sip of Cava to
“Celebrate good times, come on!” (thank you Kool and the Gang) and we are
planning to go out and “ditto” before I fall into bed and try to get up
tomorrow morning!
Margaret is burning steadily. And just how much I hate her is surely shown
in the fact that the candle could have raised near to €100 or even one hundred
quid on e-bay, perhaps even more now that the bitch is dead. But there was not way on earth that I could
have gone back on what I have told so many people: namely, that I would burn
her as soon as she died. And that, my
friends, is exactly what I have done.
Of course I extend the invitation to everyone
to come and visit me and partake of a glass of Cava to celebrate her
passing. And no one who is right
thinking (not in your way Margaret!) would be denied a drink of the bubbly
stuff should they come calling and say that they have seen the video of my
lighting the candle that Toni says he has put on YouTube! Well, he is still working on it and the
uploading seems to have taken an age, so I am not confident that the finished
article is going to be available for viewing!
He has also suggested that I put the video
in this blog, but I am not sure how to do that.
Something new to try and it couldn’t be tried for a better reason!
And now out we go for a celebratory meal!
I think that the link to the little video about
the demise of Thatcher on YouTube recorded by Toni is:
Click on it and share my pleasure. Guilty pleasure perhaps, but real
nevertheless!
The meal that we eventually had was in our third choice of restaurant - we had forgotten that Monday is not a good day to eat out - but we had a good meal and I had another bottle of Cava!
A new world!
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