A letter published in the Daily Mail on Thursday 1st March 2012 from Harry Simpson, in Northwich, Cheshire:
I’m sick of Melvyn Bragg, Hugh Grant, Joan Bakewell and Anne Robinson. I’m sick of Vince Cable, the entire Labour Shadow Cabinet and all the politicians. I’m sick of squatters and travellers, pop music, British food, the BBC, surveillance cameras, my rotten pension, terrorists, Anglican bishops and having no money, and I just want to die. My country, which I loved, is ruined. It will never be happy again. It is all self, self, self, moan, moan, moan. I cannot wait to get out and rest in peace.
I’m going to go ahead and assume the letter is genuine.
Judging from the reaction on Twitter and facebook the standard response to this is a dismissive sneer. I don’t think that’s “appropriate”.
For me a key passage is this:
“…having no money, and I just want to die. My country, which I loved, is ruined.”
For whatever reason, this man has just written to the paper wishing he was dead. He has love in his heart, but what he loved is gone. To dismiss this is arrogant, unthinking, and uncaring in the extreme. Sick, in fact. His concerns are clearly genuine, and deeply felt, but instead of being addressed they are ignored, contemptuously.
I suggest we should listen to people like Harry, take on board their concerns, and address them positively and constructively because if we did the country he loved would be a better place for all of us.