On a Death
It wasn't my intention to blog again so soon after yesterday's marathon but sometimes you can't avoid it. In a way, this is a kind of follow-on from yesterday in that it's mourning not just the loss of a person but somebody who believed in a set of values that are increasingly being ignored in our cheapened society.
Crewe and Nantwich awoke this morning to the news that Gwyneth Dunwoody, our MP of 34 years had passed away yesterday evening aged 77. It was known she'd been ill for the past week and had undergone heart surgery but she was one of those redoubtable souls that one always assumes will be around forever.
Gordon Brown made the necessary noises of sympathy and regret, as did the rest of the cabinet but much of it sounded like weasel words. They must have been secretly jumping up and down with glee because Gwyneth Dunwoody was a perennial thorn in the side of New Labour; she wasn't exactly one for towing the party line and was a constant reminder of what social democracy should have been about. She said she started out on the right wing of the party and was now on the left of it even though her views hadn't changed. The party had spun round her. She was talented enough for a portfolio but wouldn't put her name to the policies of this bowdlerised version of the party if she didn't believe in them or had no sympathy for. It's called conviction. The current crop of talentless idiots should take note.