Yesterday, Silvio Berlusconi looked like a broken man with Parkinson’s as he sat stony faced in parliament nervously twirling a pencil. The regular intakes of viagra seemed finally to be taking its toll.  It made me very happy. This image  reminded me of Thatcher’s tears when she fell on her sword and the sense of relief I feel is similar (like evacuating a particularly troublesome turd). The fact that there is no obvious contender to fill the gap he leaves behind is worrying but for now it’s just nice to know that will be gone. This time I sincerely hope it’s for good.