This day, 25 years ago, then-Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme was shot dead. The killer has not been caught.

This morning on national Swedish TV-channel TV4, a reporter stood at the site of the murder where the above memorial plaque for Palme is installed. The reporter asked himself how come nobody was there to honour Palme, as though millions should have magically collated, fist-pumped and chanted throughout the day.

Apart from the fact that a) most people living in Stockholm are perennially reminded of Palme, not only because he was a very charismatic, beloved and hated politician, but since the killer hasn't been found and hence the tabloids are still, more or less constantly alarming us of "new findings" in the police investigation which of course lead nowhere and b) it seems said reporter had one too many coffees this morning, I'd like to tell him this:

It's freezing minus centigrades outdoors, moron! If you stand there looking at a plaque in honour of Palme's memory you'll go the same way he did, only suffer longer!

Half an hour later, I saw a different reporter on a different TV-channel, who interviewed a man on a horse, asking about the very latest in horsing. The rider answered, and without warning got hit with "What are your feelings today, 25 years after the murder of Palme?" to which he inadvertently but correctly proffered a most puzzled expression.

I remember the morning after Palme was killed, when I, 9 years old, wanted to watch cartoons and informed my grandmother that there weren't any because the telly just said that the shows I wanted to see had been cancelled due to our Prime Minister having been murdered. Amidst my granny's "What on earth are you saying?", flabbergast and bewilderment, I was angry with Olof Palme. I'd practically been looking forward to those cartoons for, like, a day. At least a day. Damn him! Well, maybe they'd be on tomorrow.

And apparently, now I'm getting them. Thank you, reporters.