Burning Maggie

There’s a disturbing petition making the rounds on Facebook and other sites, regarding the potential re-naming of the August Bank Holiday as Margaret Thatcher Day. Obviously, it’s against the whole shabby idea and I urge you to at least consider the ramifications if not to actually sign it. Some of these petitions are old, or simply fighting shadows, but this one seems to be real.

You’d think it a joke… a bad one even for someone so overfull of Eton Mess that it simply couldn’t be true. It is. It’s got to the second reading in Parlia-mental.

But I’m not at all sure if I should sign the petition (I have, of course). Part of me is rather looking forward to the celebration. Poor old Guido has been on top of the pile far too long, and really deserves a break. It’s not like he did what he intended, after all. She did.

Ah, hear me rant. Sigh. Politics did not ought to make us so very, very bitter. Neither, of course, should it be so cynical itself. There ought to be a way in which we embrace the chance to guide our country, and yet not end up reviling both the direction and the ship we launched into the wild seas of ‘events, dear boy, events‘.

We’re not much more than a year away from the next general election, and European elections are almost upon us. Let’s promise ourselves, we will register, we will examine the issues, we will examine the parties, and WE WILL VOTE. If we don’t, how can we bewail those who get voted in? Even if we spoil our ballot papers, that’s still a vote of sorts.

And in preparation, here’s a very shallow guide to your own political position…

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