No time for a proper blog today on account of helping one of the Junior Tylers make his new home approximately habitable. But as we lifted unsavoury carpets and shuttled rubbish to the dump, we listened to the BBC's adulatory obits for Ted Kennedy. And I suddenly realised I've lived most of my life under a terrible delusion.
You see, I'd always believed Ted Kennedy was that womanising drunk who killed a young female assistant in an obscene crash-and-run accident back in the 70s. The populist chancer who supported the IRA against us, and who shafted his own party's incumbent President in the 1980 election. The guy who shamelessly traded on his family name and connections but who would never have been elected President in a million years.
But it seems I must have had the wrong man.
According to the BBC, Ted Kennedy was one of America's foremost leaders of the last century, whose death is an incalculable loss to western civilisation. A man who virtually single-handedly gave us peace in Ireland. A colossus who would have made a President equally as good as... well, St Obama.
I'm deeply ashamed I could ever have thought otherwise.
PS For an unglossed account of the real Ted Kennedy see Andrew Roberts here.
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