whatever their ability everyone raised the bar and challenged themselves. Endured a little something, pushed a little further than they usually would, all for a great cause. Some may also have exorcised the exercise demons (sorry) and may feel inspired to take a new path, taking control of their health and well being.
Reviews of Autobiography confirmed my worst fears: he would spend far too long detailing a complicated court case against his former band-members and not enough time describing how it must have felt to press something so pure as Hatful of Hollow or Meat is Murder to vinyl. But then - what do critics know?
His book is not going to be a classic (see above). Either Morrissey knows that - in which case the 'classic' label is a genuinely hilarious joke - or, horribile dictu, he believes it, in which case the book is likely to have all the humour and finesse of a statue produced by the Kim Jong-Il metallurgy factory for the glorification of the great leader.
The Twittersphere went wild with a torrent of hateful celebrations and equally hateful rebukes. Everyone seems to want to voice a very vocal opinion on how they feel about the death of the Iron Lady. What I find most interesting, and amazing, is that most of these public declarations come from my generation.