xerode

"Denis Thatcher’s ghost is her only real match, and occasionally he plays a Jiminy Cricket-type role in her imaginary conversations with her in widowhood. He pricks her conscience; but only to say things like “You’re drinking too much”, rather than, say, “You presided over the dismantling of the UK’s manufacturing base, sold off the country’s commonly owned silverware to a bunch of money-grubbing, pinstriped opportunists, practically eliminated the country’s social housing stock and eroded the welfare state by unleashing the worst of which the British people are capable – fear, ruthless greed and small-minded loathing, racism, xenophobia and homophobia – adding insult to injury by administering all this with a sickly, acrid, old-fashioned dose of castor oil moralism. It is just that you rot in senile purgatory and die a lonely death.” Generally, Denis encouraged rather than tempered her delusions of righteousness."