So Maggie Thatcher has died and there is an odd feeling in the air. Riots hit the streets to celebrate the death of this ‘evil’ woman. Apparently mourning, or wishing her to rest in peace, basically means you are unleashing political views which should be harnessed.
On the dawn of her death I decided to hit some comedy in the Soho Theatre – a very bad idea. It just wasn’t funny. Stand up comedy when the comedian doesn’t get you giggling is simply one of the worst ways to spend an evening. The Maggie Thatcher gags were doubly awkward – not remotely amusing and really just reveling in the death of an elderly and very sick woman. But the worst part – everyone else was screaming with laughter. Keeping quiet felt like some sort of treason.
When I was eight years old I had a poster of Maggie Thatcher by my bed. Don’t you worry – I was not some ruthless, brutal child. To me, she was just the original Spice Girl… She was the first woman Prime Minister ever, and whatever way you want to look at it – she was one hell of a woman.
I was too young to know her policies or what she was up to. I now know a bit more, and know she was not pin-up worthy.
But seriously – fair enough to jump for joy on the day of her abdication. But her death? Really? She hasn’t been up to much. Only going mad and dying. If you want to get involved in politics, get involved in the politics of today – what is happening now. Expressing delight in someones death does not do anyone any good. It is just disappointing: like an evening of shit comedy.
It’s Maggie’s funeral today, and yes, I disagree with there being such an expensive, military ceremony. But I hope she rests in peace. Call me right wing. In fact, beat that and pass me a Domino’s chicken wing…
