Showing posts with label Margaret Thatcher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Margaret Thatcher. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

The Wicked Witch Is Dead

You'll have to forgive me, but I live in the north of England, & here the celebrations are very much still continuing. Normal service will resume soon I promise, but for now it feels more pressing to pause & give an account of the people & the times in the face of the public hagiography in the mainstream media that we have already begun seeing & will no doubt continue for at least the next week or two. 

The fact is, Margaret Thatcher was perhaps the most reviled British Prime Minister of all time, certainly of the second half of the 20th Century, though you'd find it hard to arrive at that through the whitewash of history & especially the international media. But I was alive in the 1980s, & I can still vividly recall just how scary the Thatcher years were to live through. As one of the many protests song from the time once said:
"The hate that she inspired / had to be seen to be believed" 
And that's very true. I'm 41 years old now & I've still never met anyone who'll admit they voted for her. No-one I knew back then ever spoke highly or admiringly of her. They were ugly, fearful, genuinely fascist times, & we're still living in the broken, divided mess she helped create.

Under Thatcher, British industry was effectively ended, she closed down the mines & privatized everything that was not nailed down. Unemployment figures more than doubled during her term in office, & though the yuppies voted her party in throughout the 80s, she herself had consistently the lowest approval ratings of any Prime Minister on record. Margaret Thatcher destroyed whole communities for short term profit, she intentionally set out to break the trade unions & all the families that relied on them for a fair wage. She attacked the poor, the weak, the homeless, political prisoners, gypsies, homosexuals, & anyone to whom money mattered less than life. She was everything bad about Britain, the way Richard Nixon was everything bad about America - greedy, cold, heartless, petty & vindictive. And I wish we had someone like Hunter S Thompson still alive to write a fitting obituary, but he's gone too, so I guess we have to use the tools we have, ill-fitting & blunt though they be.

In another age, the people would have dug up her body & stuck her head on a spike at the gates of the city. Though I guess there's still time.

It's rare that I say this about another human being, but I'm ever so glad she's dead.

Monday, 8 April 2013

Tramp The Dirt Down



I saw a newspaper picture from the political campaign
A woman was kissing a child, who was obviously in pain
She spills with compassion,
As that young child's face in her hands she grips
Can you imagine all that greed and avarice
Coming down on that child's lips

Well I hope I don't die too soon
I pray the lord my soul to save
Oh I'll be a good boy, I'm trying so hard to behave
Because there's one thing I know,
I'd like to live long enough to savour
That's when they finally put you in the ground
Ill stand on your grave and tramp the dirt down

When England was the whore of the world
Margaret was her madam
And the future looked as bright and as clear
As the black tarmacadam
Well I hope that she sleeps well at night,
Isn't haunted by every tiny detail
Cause when she held that lovely face in her hands
All she thought of was betrayal

And now the cynical ones
Say that it all ends the same in the long run
Try telling that to the desperate father
Who just squeezed the life from his only son
And how it's only voices in your head
And dreams you've never dreamt
Try telling him the subtle difference
Between justice and contempt
Try telling me she isn't angry
With this pitiful discontent
When they flaunt it in your face
As you line up for punishment
And then expect you to say thank you,
Straighten up, look proud and pleased
Because you've only got the symptoms,
you haven't got the whole disease
Just like a schoolboy, whose heads like a tin-can
Filled up with dreams then poured down the drain
Try telling that to the boys on both sides,
being blown to bits or beaten and maimed

Who takes all the glory and none of the shame

Well I hope you live long now,
I pray the lord your soul to keep
I think I'll be going before
We fold our arms and start to weep
I never thought for a moment
That human life could be so cheap
But when they finally put you in the ground
They'll stand there laughing and tramp the dirt down

*