Tragic? Not in my book

I first heard on the 1:00 news this afternoon of the death of Margaret Thatcher. There quickly followed a stream of tributes, from both former allies and adversaries, 'a towering political figure', 'a great Briton', 'the greatest peacetime prime minister' amongst the hyperbole, and how her demise is a huge loss, a tragedy for the nation. Well, not as far as I'm concerned. There is no public figure, none at all, in my lifetime that I have loathed more than Thatcher, the vile petit bourgeois snob who detested the working class people from whom I came, effectively gave away billions and billions of pounds worth of national assets, most ultimately paid for by the taxes of those very working people she so despised, to her political friends and allies, destroyed whole industries, decimated communities, trashed the lives of families and individuals with her dogma. And who, on a personal level, I'm totally convinced, was completely culpable in the early death, at 59, of my father, an honest, hard-working man who had the misfortune to work in an industry, coal mining, which became the front line of Thatcher's class war, and who died, ultimately, from a heart attack brought on by stress engendered as a result of the 1984/1985 UK miners' strike. I'm not, by nature, a vindictive person, but I wouldn't shed a single tear if I'd heard that Thatcher died in the same kind of pain and suffering that my father did. My only regret, as far as that woman is concerned, is that she didn't die 35 years earlier, before getting her filthy hands on the levers of power, and causing more damage to this country than anyone else in the twentieth century, and beyond, as her legacy is still part of much modern day Conservativism, as with the current spate of more or less overt destruction of the welfare system and the NHS. 'We shall not see her like again'. Let's fucking hope not.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B