Cleavage

Another damn fine post from Hegemony Jones. Whose name is not really Hegemony.

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I cried the night Thatcher was elected for the first time.

Just typing those words now summons up a strange feeling, I wouldn’t quite say a Proustian rush, but most definitely a sense of a time and a place that doesn’t really exist anymore. Childhood is at best of times a weird thing to revisit mentally – shit, some of us never leave – but that world of the late 70s and early 80s seems infinitely brighter in my memory than what followed.

I was forced today, by a Seamus Milne article in the Guardian which linked Bob Crow to 1984, to revisit what had come before. I guess all who could call themselves “veterans” of the strike have those moments. Last year, when Margaret finally went to her Non-conformist reward, I wrote a blog post about the strike, but I suppose something was lacking from it, because I find…

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