It’s a sad day, and I’m trying to focus on that, and not be angry.
Her poor kids.
Of course, it’s too soon to judge Jo Cox’s killer. He may be mentally ill. So I’m not judging him.
I’m perfectly happy to judge others though: the politicians who sacrifice peace and honour and public good for their ambition.
Are you happy now, Nigel? Sleeping well tonight, Boris?
But not by immigrants; by anti-immigrants.
By the angry, by the ill-informed; by the noisy, tiresome mob; the furious nostalgic pensioner who’s political curiosity is as deep as the front page of the Daily Mail.
By the raging middle-class who vote for cuts at home, then blame Belgium when little Cassandra can’t get into their favourite school.
By the Sun-reading, X-Factor-addled, mindlessly irate, who don’t recognise their own Home Secretary, yet regurgitate low-grade xenophobia about Bulgarians each day.
By the closed-minded, furious fools without even the courage to admit that skin-colour is behind their rhetoric.
Those thing that define Britain? They’re important.
And they’re being stamped out by the British: not by foreigners.
If you “want your country back”, start behaving how you want that country to behave.
You want it fair? Be fair to refugees.
You want it honest? Don’t tell lies about migrants.
You want it to be rational? Believe evidence, don’t dismiss it as the lies of the elite.
You want it peaceful? Don’t pour gasoline on the flames or racism.
RIP Jo Cox.