This whole Margaret Thatcher business

Interesting how the general fondness and hosannas directed towards Margaret Thatcher here in the US are somewhat more muted in the UK.  A bit more carefully measured, having experienced the full reality of the woman.  I don't know enough to comment, even though I just did.

The point being that a friend of mine asked me, upon reading my coverage of Thatcher's death, why I had it in for her.  I responded that I really was angry at Ronald Reagan and that it just leeched over.  But that's not true.  The guy I really disliked was William F. Buckley.

A shit of a man about whom even his son, Christopher, had a hard time coming up with too many good things to say.  I would call your attention to the son's book "Losing Mum and Pup."

If memory serves, the only good thing I got from the book about Buckley Elder was that, while sailing on Long Island Sound (maybe?  maybe somewhere near Nantucket?  doesn't matter), he used to pull up lobster pots and steal the lobsters.  He always replaced them with a bottle or two of Jack Daniels.

That didn't keep him from going straight to hell, though.