The Bugle - The Bugle – The Baroness bows out

Episode Date: April 14, 2013

What's an appropriate way to give Margaret Thatcher a send off?Not like this. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world. Hello, buglers and welcome to issue 230 of the bugle with me and his ozman in London, the United Kingdom and nation in mourning off the death last week at the age of 87 of one of Britain's greatest and most influential figures of the late 20th century, who from a breakthrough in the late 1970s changed life for individuals and societies in many ways and changed the way people look at life arguably for all time in this nation who as persons recognised on the international stage as well as domestically faded by the right-wing newspaper the Daily Telegraph as one of the world's greatest contemporary geniuses. This great British figure, a pioneer who overcame hostility and skepticism to become an inspiration

in particular to women, the importance of whose work reverberates to this day in Britain and around the world. Sorry, I'm getting a bit emotional. I know 87 is old, but it wouldn't make it any easier for the nation to cope with his loss. So Robert Edwards, the Nobel Prize winning physiologist who developed in vitro fertilization, passed away last Wednesday.

Other than that, everything's been fine. And joining me from New York City, it's the crankshaft of comedy, the fan belts of funny, the cylinder head of satire, the piston of the particularly amusing, chunking out 750 brake horsepower of bad ass hilarity, the comedic car engine that is John Oliver. Hello Andy, hello buglers, I'm back Andy, back from a whirlwind trip down under to Australia where I ended up not just in Sydney but also in some of the most ludicrously named places I've ever set foot in. Places like Wogger Wogger and Wadonger, come on Andy, those aren't town names, they're just funny, funny noises.

Australia is a sensational place. And it really begs the question, Andy, why the f*** did we make that our penal colony when it's nicer than where we live? We should have said to criminals at the time, Andy, you're all staying here, we're off to go live in paradise or be it a coastal paradise around a rocky hill. But point is we made a huge technical geographical error. In my time upside

down, I also got to interview ex-prime Minister John Howard there, an experience which, should we say, he didn't seem to enjoy to his maximum capacity. And the... I also just want to say, Quink L.O. to all the buglers that are met down there, Australia turned out to be a sensational place, albeit. Andy, I don't know if you've found it this way. One of the most comfortably racist places I've ever been in. They've really settled into their intolerance, Andy,

like an old, resentful slipper. And you can say what you like about Australian racism, Andy. It is undeniably specific. I had a couple of Australians, like more than one, complaining about all the leboes in the country referring apparently to the Lebanese. Now, who the fuck is it noise by Lebanese people, Andy? Again, let me reiterate, in a way you have to

undermine the attention to detail, not just all those Arabs, but the Lebanese. That's like saying, you know who I can't stand? Sri Lankans. Malaysians, no problem. Bangladesh is lovely people, but Sri Lankans, I've got no time for them Jose. Now, how many Lebanese people, Andy, can it actually be in Australia? There's only just over 4 million Lebanese people in Andy. Can it actually be in Australia? There's only just over 4 million Lebanese people in fucking Lebanon. And the one thing that Australia cannot argue is there's no room here in this country because that land is fucking gigantic. That aside, fantastic

place, Andy. Can't wait to go back. That's basically the government's immigration policy for quite a long time. There's to just stand on the coast by any large harbors and ports, trying to make themselves look big. He's like, no, no, we, honestly, there is no space for people. So this is bugle 230. Nope, I'm going to resist that. As the reason the reason,

Pope Benedict the 16th said he didn't have any poses of the Jamaican sprinter Merlinotti on his bed and wall in the Vatican. The Jamaican athlete won no Olympic gold, but six bronzes. To go the seven bronzes, she won at the World Championship, making her inter-Pokes view 230. And also, to 230 was the answers to a special Margaret Thatcher themed quiz in the House of Commons Bar this week.

The questions of which were, what was Margaret Thatcher's favourite part of a shock? Which of our cabinet ministers was Margaret Thatcher reported to have had most different recipes for cooking? And what valve did Margaret Thatcher use most often in her speeches? Tooth herd E. So it was very appropriate, appropriate number for this week. Also the week beginning Monday the 15th of April 2013, meaning it's 148 years, John, to the day since Abraham Lincoln had his clogs forcibly popped, literally went out of the

bank. Also, 250 years since the publication of the first English dictionary by word fans, Sammy Johnson, 250 years, it doesn't time fly, and amongst the word, in his dictionary then, but now seldom used, include Scruffle Jic, that's a person who trained his dog to defecate on his neighbor's lawn rather than his own flonotti, that is the debris left on the wall of a urinal after a particularly vigorous sneeze, coal miner. Yeah, Maggie Maggie, yeah where's that one gone? As well as a sort of a sort of words for a male reproductive adjunctum and including menbrilliant, thunkertrunk, grobleton, phatilletch and prongdong doodle. As always a section of the bugle is going straight in the bin.

This week can audio history of the fatures. Part one, Margaret Thatcher is born. Aaaaaaah! Aaaaa Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh darling, it's a beautiful little Tory. Just what we always wanted darling. Why is she crying? I think she wants some booboo Alfred. She can't have it, Beatrice. She's got to learn to be self-sufficient.

Well, I'll explain a few things. Next week, the school years Margaret gets hit in the head with a lump of coal during juggling practice. Top story this week. You die if you want to. The lady is not for dying. Oh, hold on, scratch that. I think I'll give it a go.

It's Maggie Thatcher, death catcher. Well, what an emotional week it has been for Britain and the 87 year old former Prime Minister and political juggernaut Margaret Thatcher has died. And it may be very hard for people around the world to understand the kind of strange emotional rollercoaster that Britain has been on over the last seven days, as many people are forced to navigate some complicated feelings regarding how to justify feeling slightly less than sorrowful over the death of a frail, vulnerable old lady. It's been halfway between a celebration and a memorial this week. It's essentially been a

celebrorial. And if you saw some of the scenes on TV of impromptu street parties over the death of Margaret Thatch, you might understandably think people in Britain are a bunch of heartless s**ts. And to some extent, you'd be right. Seeing 18-year-old dancing around after the death of a woman whose time in power they never directly experienced or beat, the aftershocks of which they undoubtedly felt, is not an entirely heartwarming experience and it's only gonna get more complicated from here. The official full ceremonial funeral is gonna take place on Wednesday in London

at ironically high cost in a taxpayer. I final hypocrisy, high coup, in a controversial career. Now apparently Andy, correct me if I'm wrong, it's not officially a state funeral, although it's going to be fucking difficult to tell the difference, because there's apparently not going to be a military flyover, but there's going to be pretty much everything else. Is that right? Yeah, that's basically it. It is a state funeral in all apart from name, including specifically, as you say, in price tag. And it's been, I think it's fair to say more than a little bit controversial because she was a woman who didn't just split

opinion, but slathered it with ice cream and pops a glass of cherry on top. And also, interestingly, within minutes, John, of her death being announced. There was a great debate on how it should be commemorated, not just in society and Britain as a whole, but also amongst buglers, particularly through the bugle Twitter feed, with a lot of people asking whether or not she would get or demanding that she should get a f***ing eulogy. And you know, it's a tough philosophical question to address, because you know, you set the bar pretty high for f***ing eulogies. We try to maintain that, this franchise. I don't just hand them out to anyone. You've got to really earn them. And you might say, settle on side bin Laden, Gaddafi and Kim Jong-il. There's

no way a woman even was devised as that deserves a f*** you legit. But you would also say Settleongside Churchill, the Duke of Wellington and Isaac Newton, she sure as f*** doesn't deserve a state funeral, which is essentially what she's got. Funded by the taxpayers, a large percentage of whom would only be happy to contribute, if their money was being used to pay for a giant 50-metre high middle finger made of cold to be paraded ten yards behind a coffin. Also, Parliament was recalled to pay tribute to her a few days earlier than it would otherwise. I've done with that I've made many different ones. She got to get any more or less dead in

those intervening days. Perhaps she was apparently Tory Central Office was reportedly disappointed and surprised that as of three days after her death there had still been no resurrection. They should have statement saying we're shooting it's just been some kind of administrative hold-up. According to President, it should have statement saying we're shooting it's just been some kind of administrative holdup. According to precedent, it should have happened by now. It's probably to do with paperwork. Thank you Brussels. So a very good suggestion was sent in by a bugle called Don from New York, who suggested that while she maybe doesn't want to fall state new logies. He is definitely worthy of a ceremonial f**k you, LG.

No one knows exactly what the difference is, says Tom. But it looks like you're taking the controversial nature of the relevant corpse into account in arriving at a middle position. Very statesman-like. That is a very good one. To straddle that problem, Andy. Yeah, so I don't know what your view on this,

John, as a man who created the term, the institution, it is the f the fuck you, Lity. Yeah, what's important to withhold it, Andy. Right. And, you know, is dismantling society over a decade enough? I'm afraid the bar is higher than that at the moment. Who knows, some day it may be watered down, but I don't think, I think it's cerebral time, Andy.

It's not a full fuck you, Lity. There is going to be blow out media coverage on Wednesday, regardless of this not quite state with the uppercase airs funeral. And maybe this has actually come at a good time for Britain Andy. Last year we had the Royal Wedding, we had the Olympics. We've been looking for another reason to put on a show for the world and I guess this will have to do for now. The problem is going to be how to produce the spectacle

necessary when everyone's feelings regarding the person in question are so complicated. British people are not taught to be not particularly well in touch with their emotions, so how are we gonna fake our way through a funeral, Andy? Maybe we need to get in some of those professional mourners or some of those terrified-looking crying people who were lying the streets at Kim Jong-il's funeral. That's when you'll know officially, as a

member of the world, if the British people have decided we're not up to publicly grieving Andy because we won't have enough tears in the tank. If all the shots, you will know, if all the shots of the possession in London or Wednesday feature hordes of frightened North Koreans, that's how you'll know that we basically given up on Gonta Plan B. At the scale of the funeral will reportedly be along the same lines as those for Princess Diana and the Queen Mother and the public cost, as we're mentioning as Ray some eyebrows, as it doesn't seem to sit well for someone who in a lifetime was so against public spending of any kind that she said about privatising the living

shit out of everything. Surely it will be far more appropriate, Andy, to find a way to have the private sector take care of this, have sponsorship up the side of her coffin like a race car, and have product placement join the eulogy. Yes, it will be slightly inhuman, but what more appropriate way could there possibly be to bid farewell to one of the most calculating politicians in recent memory. And also Andy, that would open up the potential for us to pay for a much more spectacular ceremony than the one we're currently able to, which might satisfy both sides. It would mean we could have a giant inflatable bell-grano, the Argentine ship that was shot

in the back during the Folklins. We could then have her coffin in the shape of a pointy torpedo and carry it into the back of the inflatable ship, puncturing it and deflating it as a hologram Ronald Reagan cheers and then burst into tears and attempts to throw himself into that just grave before her. Again, yes, it would be tasteless, but isn't that what she would have wanted. She was, as you say, an incredibly divisive figure in this country. She polarized this nation like a celebrity chef smearing a grizzly bear in cream cheese and buying it a one-way ticket to the North Pole.

And she was a sort of a political medusa. But if you looked into her policies, it would simply turn you to a stout. She was a dominatrix in a parliament of submissives. And if you want to know the relationship between Fatcher and her party, any time you see footage of her talking in parliament, imagine all the grey men sitting behind her wearing gimp mask. And I think that will show you exactly what Brickham was like in the 90s. And I guess these vehicles can probably be about half an hour, but really you only need to listen to that sentence to perfectly evoke what Britain is going through this week.

To indicate some of the complications that are ahead of us, the Premier League did not ask clubs to observe a minute silence at any football games this weekend, which upset a number of people, especially that she's former sports minister Richard Tracey who said, frankly, I think it's rather cheap than they decided not to show any sort of respect for her because to be honest, she really did deliver what football is today. And exactly Andy, he's not wrong about that. She really did deliver what football is today, an unregulated commercial nightmare. Plus, let's not forget her and her government's response to the Hillsborough disaster, which guaranteed that,

if you ask football fans to observe the life of Margaret Thatcher, you might get a minute of something, but it sure as shit wouldn't be silence. In fact, there might actually be something in that, Andy. Maybe they should have suggested a minute noise across the country just so you could make any primal sound that you wanted in relation to Margaret Thatcher. It might have been cathartic for the whole of Britain. Some could cry, others could cheer,

many could cry at the others cheering, some could move, but all could find a way to process their feelings. Well, I think, uh, I can be simpler than that, could just have a compulsory pantomime booing, I think. Minisk islands and then a minute's pantomime booing, punctuated by shouts of, he's behind you, referring perhaps to the way she was ousted from power by a ping-stabbed in the back by her own party, the same party that has effectively politically canonized her this week.

I don't know if you saw any of the parliamentary debate in which parliament was recalled just to pay tribute to Lathach. I don't know if were you in Australia for that or were you glued to your telecast? I think I was probably on my way back. I didn't see it. You probably could feel the reverberations in the aeroplane as you flew around the other side of the world. But I know probably some bugle has might have seen it, some probably didn't. But if any bugle is out there who've ever been wandering, what it would look like to see 300 Tory MPs simultaneously masturbating, I think that is probably as close as we will ever get in this world.

There has been some pretty objectively distasteful responses to her death this week. There were impromptu street parties and an internet campaign to try to get the song Ding Dong The Witch is Dead to number one on the British singles chart. The problem is that the time for celebration at Thatcher being gone was probably November 1990, when she left office and was no longer relevant. The problem with that problem is that she hasn't really stopped being relevant at any point since. Ex-Prime Minister Tony Blair, perhaps a little nervous about the future response to his passing, criticized those people who'd held street parties to celebrate FATCH's death,

saying that they were in pretty poor taste. And I don't think there's any denying that that is true. The only argument is whether that lack of taste is appropriate or not. He then urged the critics to show some respect. And I think there has to be a balancing feeling to people's responses here. And because I think there's just bound to be an inclination to push back against some of the eulogising of her time in office that you just mentioned. I've felt that way, Andy, and I haven't been in Britain this week, where I'm sure you've been taking a saccharine shower in iron lady lionising, and that can't have been easy to take.

Yeah, John, I have been... It's been difficult to take, and some extraordinary things have been said. There's just been, you know a kind of extremes that she has provoked throughout her career and now after death, it's been extraordinary. David Cameron said on the day she saved our country by which he meant she saved David Cameron's bit of the country. As he said those words,

more television sets were smashed in Britain than at any point in British history. Since Chris Waddle blazed a penalty over the bar in the World Cup semi-finals against Germany in 1990. And it's interesting for me, John, how I grew up in the South-East in Tumberidge Wells, is as bad as Tory as a town can possibly get without just flying off into orbit and looking down at the world, saying, well, we are far better than you lot. And at my school, John, there were 600 teenage boys. That was the contents of my school. We had a school general election in 1992 to coincide with the real general election. And 550 of those boys voted for the Conservative candidate, which shows the independence of Spirit that was fostered in places like that. And it was, I guess, only really was sort of when I sort of saw a bit more of the world

than that small bit of Kent and Thatcher land that maybe I began to realize what, you know, that she wasn't quite the goddess that she'd been presented. If you left a pile of 600 copies of Playboy magazine and 600 copies of a glossy magazine tribute to Margaret Thatcher at my school and said to the boys you could take one magazine each then 600 of those boys would take the Thatcher magazine and the same 600 boys would then also take playboy, but it just kind of shows the boy she was viewed That school and then they were just rifle through playboy looking to see if there they're any bunnies of the month with Bufont Heron and aggressive looking handbag. Yeah, let me, the problem with this week is there's a natural emotional process to go through, balancing what she did with who she was.

And yes, she was the first female prime minister in the UK, which is unquestionably a landmark achievement. But she also blocked sanctions to South Africa during a partite and famously took milk out of schools, which led to her nickname Maggie Thatcher, Milk Snatcher, or some people rhymed it, Maggie Thatcher, total ******. Maybe though, she's best remembered through some of her own words. Two, one of her most famous quotes came from 1997 when she said, there is no such thing as society.

There are individual men and women, and there are families. She didn't just talk the talk, Andy. She walked the walk. She didn't just believe that there was no such thing as a society. She said about dismantling it in front of everyone's eyes to make sure that she was right.

And that tonal wine of hers pairs perfectly with a slightly earlier quote where she argued that nobody would remember the good Samaritan if he'd only had good intentions. He had money as well. Oh that's right, that's the message to take away from the parable of the good Samaritan and the that the Samaritan was a successful small businessman. It was a parable in private enterprise. So what you like about that, Jorandi, and this week you can't. But she was nothing if she wasn't a free market theologian who listens to the story, Andy, of the good Samaritan and thinks, wow, thank goodness he'd walked past so many needy people while building his business that he was able to help this poor wretch. I just hope that he leaves his welfare instincts at

that because at the end of the day, his first responsibility is to his shareholders. Or with a way that both sides of react to reacted. This is kind of impossible to separate the truth from the myths, the facts and the fictions and the shit from the chocolate. But if the nation that we live in today is indeed part of Factor's legacy, then frankly her legacy is f***ing mental. And you cannot deny that she also inspired great adoration as well as condemnation during her life and career Andy. ex-French president Francois Mitterrand once said she has the eyes of Caligula and the mouth

of Marilyn Monroe, which might be one of the creepiest sentences spoken about anyone ever Andy. I know he was French Andy, but that sentence proves that there is such a thing as being too French. In her defence, how the f*** was she supposed to respond to that at the time, Andy? Thank you, Francois. Now, why don't you cool your jetter second, Mon Putty, Shufler, and take it down at least a couple of notches? While I was in Australia, Andy, they're foreign minister Bob Car made headlines after describing some comments that Thattar had made to him in her retirement

as unabashedly racist. And as I mentioned at the start, you know that that must have been spectacular as it came from an Australian. Praise from Caesar is praise indeed. He claims that during a conversation she had warned Australia against Asian immigration, arguing that if they allow too much of it, they'd see the natives of the land, the European settlers overtaken by migrants. For a start, Andy, I don't think you could accurately describe the European settlers as the natives of the land in Australia. I don't think even Australians would claim that. Yeah, that is taking me finders keepers

or a little bit too far. Bob Cohen on to say that he was particularly astonished at the comments because she made them while his Malaysian born wife, Helena, was standing not far away but was fortunately out of earshot. He said, I was so astonished, I don't think I could come up with an appropriate reply. And if in down Andy, you always go with shut the f*** up. And I don't know why that stuck in his throat. I've never known an Australian person be too far away from that particular phrase. So it's going to be interesting to see how Britain manages to cater to a divided nation over the issue of that just legacy this week and beyond.

Perhaps the easiest thing to do might be to have one single eulogy extolling the virtues of her as a person and her time in office, but have it read twice once sincerely and once sarcastically. That might be the only real way of satisfying everyone. Or, you could use a carefully crafted euphemisms. That used to be the favourite technique in a bit of history. There was a great interview this week with Bob Chowndey, I think his name is,

who used to be the obituris editor of the BBC and he said that there used to be a tradition in a bit of never ever speaking ill of the dead and that went by the wayside in the 1980s. I wonder what could have happened during that decade to facilitate that societal decline, Andy. Maybe it was something to do with society being told that it did exist and having a truncheon slammed into its balls. But he said it's gone out of fashion a bit now, but euphemisms used to be a bit too tall to soften the blow.

The telegraph in particular became famous for them. A crashing bore was a tireless rack on tour. An old windbag relished the cadences of the English language. He said, so with that in mind, I'll present a euphemistic eulogy of the great Margaret Thatcher. Margaret Thatcher was a steely figure whose timing office was unshackled by compassion. She demonstrated an uncanny neck of multitasking opinions, having a fiery commitment to thrift, while simultaneously unleashing the undiluted nuclear power of casino capitalism. Her diamond cut voice could charm a tumour out of a rhino, and she possessed an icy focus that well complemented the general temperature of her heart.

Her love and respect for the common man was poorly documented, and she will forever arouse powerful memories in the minds of all those who experienced her essence. Plus, let's we forget, she had the eyes of Kalegella and the mouth of Marilyn Monroe. Oh yeah! Oh no! Oh yeah! Oh no! What was a great argument over her? Her legacy, she was... been trumpeted as a

champion of freedom. Some of the Chileans might disagree on that after a support for a general pinnashay and they're in her defence, apparently the people that his regime murdered didn't feel as much pain as the victims of other dictators so it was fine. And besides, has Britain been invaded by Chile in the last 25 years? No, that is all the justification I need, John. Judge the record, Andy. Yes, John, question me left the legacy, John, but to many it was the kind of legacy that your dog leaves when you take it to the legacies in the park. But what Britain did she leave behind? Well, John, I think it's a Britain that's realised that's in business

anything is possible, but unfortunately it was also a Britain that realised that in business business anything is possible but unfortunately it was also a Britain that realised that in business anything is possible and the unregulated markets have proceeded since then to defecate noisily through our national letter box ever since. At first perhaps we were excited just to have some exciting new bits of post but now we just have a house full of shit. Since that just time the United Kingdom has been sort of fracturing off, devoluting in all different kinds of directions. Scotland spinning perhaps towards independence. After the decade of facturism in which large parts of the United Kingdom were essentially used as something like a cross between a urinal and a laboratory monkey.

Perhaps even a laboratory monkey in a urinal. With how left, with an economy based on vapor and on financial witchcraft. And the whole impression is that the management of Britain's transition away from the industrial was managed with the same delicacy as Ann Bullins' transition to becoming the former Mrs Henry VIII. HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII

HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII HENRY VIII As you said, ding dong, the witch is dead is rocketing up the charts. We're recording this on the Sunday afternoon and so we don't know yet. No, if it's going to reach number one,

the BBC has been put in an awkward position, put under a lot of political pressure and apparently it's come to the decision to only play five seconds of the song, presumably for the sake of political balance, only be showing five seconds of the funeral as well on Wednesday. And some people say, well, it's offensive this song and he probably got a phone as he said early on. It's undeniable offensive. I'm lovely. It cannot make a coherent case that it's not offensive. It's offensive but at the same time when you balance it out against all the other TV coverage it's got a point. Yes sure sure but it's still you can't say it's not offensive. Not offensive. You can argue it's funny. You can't say it's not offensive.

But is it childish? Yes, is it funny? Arguably, is it offensive? It is just this, it just is. In a way, that's why it's funny. I know some people say, well, what if the family are offended by it? Well, John, I don't know how many families are sitting around a coffee table on a Sunday afternoon, handkerchiefs in hand, sniffling and sobbing at the merciless inevitability of death. And say to each other, you know what,

the only way to sway J.R. Gryff at the passing of our dearly beloved Matry Hawk is to listen to the top 10 singles in the pop chart. It's what she would have wanted. So the BBC has set to play an explanation of why the song is in the pop-up chart. It's what she would have wanted. So the BBC has set to play an explanation of why the song is in the charts, including a statement on how, under the wicked, which the West actually experienced some boom economic times, particularly in the frog farming industry. So deregulation of the financial markets was a necessary strategic move at the time

that would have worked out fine if it hadn't been for Tony Blair. On the subject of tasteless, but arguably philosophically justifiable reactions. I don't know how you found out, John, about the death of the immortal Mrs. T. But the way I found it, I was, it was on Monday. And I've been working on my weekly cricket article, so I hadn't been watching or listening to the news, and I got an email from a friend of ours. They just had a link to a website that was www.esstaturedeadyet.co.uk.

So I clicked on it and they're in big letters, was the word yes, with the ladies not returning. Now I'm questioning, John, this is not in, you know, the most sensitive of taste. This is the website I think's been there for a while now, but it has 195,000 likes on Facebook, a number that has been steadily rising all week. And I think that really expresses, the dichotomy of opinion that Thatcher has generated

after death just as she did in life. God rest and or punch her soul. Margaret Thachar fact box! Some conservatives believe that a margarita cocktail served in a conservative association bar actually contains the real bile of Margaret Thatcher. Others believe it is just symbolic of her bile. The Conservatives have been trying to clone Mrs. Thatcher since 1989, using a strand of hair from when she had butted along a young Tony Blair in a fist fight by the bins out of back of the houses of Parliament. So far they just managed to create Princess Eugenie

of York, Jessica Shield, the 2010 Miss Guatemala, star quarterback Robert Griffin III, an actress Dakota Fanning. Margaret Thatcher famously needed only four hours sleep a night. That is not enough sleep. Let me tell you, I'm beginning a battle average of four hours of sleep a night. Ever since I had a child, it's not enough.

That is not a job you should be doing without proper rest. I don That is not a job you should be doing without proper rest. I don't even have a job and I cannot cope on 4 hours sleep and I... That is not something to be praised. If she'd had more sleep and I, for a start, she'd have been a wake less long and done less work that might have benefited a few people. And secondly, she might have been more awake! people and secondly she might be more awake. Well that's it for this week's Thatcher departure memorial bugle we'll be back next week with a world

exclusive on the funeral no other media organization will be covering it you will only be able to hear what happens at the people. John, where are you going to be watching it for? Is the daily show flying you over here? No, I don't believe so, Andy. Let's hope not. I've had enough of planes, to be honest, for a while. It's quite a long flight to Australia.

And by quite long, I mean, f***ing long. So, yeah, I could do with being on the ground for a while. Yeah, so I'll watch it from here, Andy. And if I don't watch it, I mean, so you could do with being on the ground for a while. Right. Yeah, so I'll watch it from here Andy and if I don't watch it, I'll certainly feel it from here. So whilst Southeast England mourns and much of the rest of England, the early tries to conceal its celebrations until next week, Buegler's goodbye, we will play you out with what the people are Britain on the streets. I've been telling us this week about the woman who has defined the modern nation of Britain according to some destroyed it according to others. It's very much to side of the same opinion. It's too side-over opinion Andy.

It is too free to think either. The freedom that she thought so hard for. It's two sides of the same building. It's two sides of the building. It's a matter of opinion, Andy. You're free to think either. The freedom that she thought so hard for. It's two sides of the same slapping the face. Of course, Margher was the first Prime Minister who was magic. Herb at Esquith could turn an egg into a chicken, but he needed to roost on it for ages first. She rescued this country from communism, fascism, poverty, typhoid, to plague monsters, asteroids, aliens, Diego Maradona and Arthur Scargill. The only real black mark against her is that under her rule the England cricket team returned the lowest win percentage that it has under any prime minister who's been in charge for more than ten tests.

And I'm afraid even the most valuable statue fan must acknowledge that that was a serious weakness in her otherwise flawless reign. Before Fatcher, everyone was lovely, now they're all f**ked. I'm a f**ked and that statue's fault. She made me a f**ked. If it wasn't for Margaret, we would all have been speaking Soviet by now, or Belgian, or Northern.

Is that the Britain you wanted to grow up in? There is absolutely no evidence that Margaret was actually a witch. There had no documented evidence. She just loved cauldrons and had a lifelong fascination with the broomstick. And she found wearing a pointy black hat just made her think more clearly. She was quite clearly not a witch. I should know I was in her cabinet for ten years. Rivet, rivet, rivet, rivet. Most of the unemployed were absolutely thrilled to have their diaries cleared and to be able to spend a bit more quality time with their families. Whilst city boys like myself were

working 18 hour days and barely had time to even think about the hundreds of thousands of pounds we were making from turning London into the world's biggest casino. Margaret was wonderful, she was like the lady in red in the crystal berg song, but in blue. Well of course I remember the day when my dad came home and he said that his factory had to close and well the next thing we knew was she sat her chuk to brick through the window and jumped in, right, settled parking some stannier right next to her with a cudule in his hand and she goes up to my old man, she rips his shirt up and she looks him in the eye, and she tears his heart out, clean as day, and she says to Parkinson, put it in your satchel, SESS, we'll feed it to the dog, she gobs on the floor and then

whos, she's gone while my dad bleeds out on the carpet, that's the kind of woman she was, she did what she believed was right, whether that was shutting the factories or ripping my dad's heart out of his store racks and letting him die on the floor. Look I'm not saying I agreed with it, but you had to admire her. She didn't even have a dog. You want to get a camera and doing that, he'd sit back and wait for Big Sis Hardy to do it. Boy! Bye!