Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Mad scientist changes the weather
I was out of the country when the Queen Mother died, but I have the impression that her passing did not get anything like the wall-to-wall coverage of rhetoric that Margaret Thatcher's is at the moment, and we still have the funeral with full military honours to look forward to.
Britain is a truly strange place and I love being here because of that, but I can equally see why a lot of people want nothing better than to get well away from it by emigrating to Australia, or anywhere else which has at least a bit of decent, predictable weather.
Nobody - nobody - could have predicted the epidemic of irrational grief which followed the death of Princess Diana, from a nation better known for it's almost autistic lack of compassion toward strangers. Remember how her funeral cortege had to keep stopping every few hundred yards to clear the flowers from the windscreens, all the way to Althorpe?
I (and a lot of other people) suspect that the drivers of Maggie's hearse may have to stop many times to clear the windscreen of a 50-50 mixture of flowers and dog-shit. I really hope not, but you never know how people are going to behave these days.
Just as foretold in those Rupert Bear annuals of the 1950s, the seasons have reversed.