[...] the two 'sports health technicians' who visited Salisbury to admire the famous '123-metre spire' were morons sent by morons. [...] Did no one c… - John Sweeney

One simple yardstick of someone's life, of the good or bad they have done, is how many people turn up for their funeral. In Navalny's case, there was an extra dimension knowing that the likely consequences of turning up to say a last goodbye could include getting sacked, arrested, a clubbing by the police or worse.

Putin's understanding of the world is maddeningly narrow, reduced to a gloomy tunnel vision, locked into a false narrative of betrayal. He once declared the fall of the Soviet Union 'the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the twentieth century'.
What?
Worse than the First and Second World Wars? Worse than the Holocaust? The Soviet Union was, in reality, a dark totalitarian dictatorship under Stalin that slowly morphed into a gloomy senility.

Navalny's death brought forth tributes from around the world, but, more to the point, hundreds of people were arrested in Russia for daring to mark the passing of their hero. One noted exception to this outpouring of grief was Vladimir Putin. The day the news broke, he was hanging out in Chelyabinsk, in the Urals. Ordinarily a miserable git when he takes part in official ceremonies, Putin, parked a safe distance from any potentially infectious mortals, was full of fun, laughing, teasing and high as a kite. And why not? He'd just had the leader of the opposition murdered.