There is a marked contrast in my social media feeds between the reactions to the deaths of Lemmy, David Bowie and Glenn Frey, and the death of Cecil Parkinson. The former was filled with recongition of their artistic legacies, and personal memories about what their music had meant to people.
With Cecil Parkinson it’s all about the appalling way in which he treated his former mistress and illegitimate daughter.
Though the report in The Telegraph, which I won’t like to, makes want to throw up.
Miss Keays, an embittered woman, who bore Mr Parkinson’s daughter, Flora, repeatedly claimed that he had reneged on a promise to leave his own wife and marry her.
Ugh. When feminists talk about “The Patriarchy”, this is the sort of attitude they mean.
The super-injunction he managed that prevented any media mention of the existence of his daughter until she reached the age of eighteen was completely unprecedented. According to some reports she could not even appear in school photographs or partocipate in school events. Strong evidence that he was an awful man.
Lemmy, David Bowie and Glenn Frey all contributed to making the world a better place. Can the same be said of Cecil Parkinson?
I liked The Guardian far more before it started racing the Daily Mail to the bottom when it came to button-pushing clickbait trolling. Jonathan Jones’ appalling piece of the late Terry Pratchett (which I refuse to link to, Google for it if you must) writing him off as a mediocre writer of potboilers is probably the nastiest individual piece I’ve read online since 
So what right-wing backpfeifengesicht thought putting the inventor on the concentration camp on the new £2 coin was a jolly good idea?