The snake oil salesman
Doctor Hogwash introduces the product that no-one can do without
(first published 28/07/21)
Doctor Hogwash pulled the cord that opened the curtains on his wagon and strolled confidently to the centre of his mobile stage. He was the picture of elegance with his top hat, frock coat, gold pocket watch and walking cane, the wooden handle of which was crafted into the shape of a snake. It was only when you got up a little closer you could see the frayed edges and discolouration from those long dusty roads that he’d called home for the last two months. He was nearing the end of his tour of the Midwest states, which had proved very lucrative and the minor blemishes and imperfections in his appearance would not detract from his slick sales pitch. He was on a roll.
“Step right up, step right up, ladies and gentlemen. Today will be a day that changes your life forever, for I have a very special product I would like to introduce to you. Whatever you desire in life, my product is guaranteed to provide you with it. Do you want to live a long and prosperous life, good Sir? Then this is the product for you. Or perhaps it is the next life that concerns you more. If so and you want to earn your place in Heaven, then this product will be essential. Maybe none of that bothers you. Maybe you’re young and carefree and you just want to sing, dance and be merry. Well my youthful friends, you may soon find that without my product your happy-go-lucky lifestyle will come to an abrupt end. But there is no need for any of you to worry, ladies and gentlemen, as whatever your hopes and dreams are, you will find them in this magical little bottle.”
The doctor was capturing the curiosity of passers-by and the crowd was now beginning to grow.
“Come on, step right up for your bottle of the Purple Potion, made from the purple-glossed Amblyodipsas snake of Africa and cooked slowly and lovingly in a glazed pot. Not only is this a miracle cure for respiratory diseases but it’s also a one size fits all answer to all your consumer needs. You at the front Sir, do you ever worry about catching a nasty bug and becoming seriously ill? A man of your age and your, shall we say, rotund physique should be worried. You might wake up one morning fighting for breath and that will be the beginning of the end. You might think it’s just another cough but it will be the cough that finishes you off. Have you got a wife and children, Sir? How will they feel when they see you lying on your death bed gasping for air? Do you know how many men of your age die from respiratory diseases every year? No, of course you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have that big smile on your face; you would be sick with worry. But with the Purple Potion you do not need to worry my good friend. I can swear to you on my dear departed mother’s life that not one of you will die of a respiratory disease after taking the Purple Potion. And if I’m wrong I’ll give you a full refund.”
The rotund gentleman waddled to the front of the stage and bought a bottle of the Purple Potion.
“A wise gentleman indeed! But keeping you alive and well is not all the Purple Potion does. If you take it then it will stop your friends and family getting ill too. Indeed, if you’re a public spirited sort of person and you are concerned about the health of your fellow citizens then the Purple Potion is a must buy product for you…”
“I heard someone died an hour after taking it, in the last town you were in!” a heckler shouted out. For a brief moment the normally poised and well composed doctor was thrown off balance. He cleared his throat.
“Ahem…well, of course it is possible, as with all good medicines, that you might have an adverse reaction to it but it is extremely rare. In fact there is a greater chance you will be struck by lightning,” he replied.
“Well it’s enough to put me off!” said a feisty looking young woman as she started walking away from the crowd. “Purple Potion? More like Purple Poison! I’ll just put my trust in the good Lord, thank you very much.”
Things weren’t going to plan. Doctor Hogwash had to think quickly.
“Indeed Madam you should put your trust in the good Lord. You should trust that he will protect you from harm’s way when you are doing the right thing and acting compassionately. If he saw that you were hesitant to take something that would benefit your fellow human beings purely because of the infinitesimally small risk of an adverse effect then he would frown upon your selfish attitude. If you want to show the Lord that you’re worthy of your place in Heaven then you will need to prove to him that you are an altruist. To enter the Kingdom of Heaven you must love thy neighbour as thyself. I can see you’re a young healthy woman and in no imminent danger of dying from a respiratory disease but you could still pass your germs onto someone older and frailer than yourself. With the Purple Potion you do not have to worry about that. With the Purple Potion no-one can catch a nasty bug off you and die. You can sleep easy at night in the knowledge that you are not contributing to all the misery in the world. And Heaven knows there is too much misery in this world.”
The young woman turned around and jostled her way to the stage to buy a bottle of Purple Potion.
“Hallelujah!” the doctor exclaimed. “And now I would like to introduce you to a good friend of mine, the famous newspaper man, Piers Moron. Piers started taking the Purple Potion a month ago and he is now one of the biggest advocates of it. He has not stopped thanking me ever since. Such a fan of the Purple Potion is Piers that he thinks it should be compulsory for every man, woman and child to take it.”
A middle aged, rather overweight man walked onto centre stage to join the salesman. The crowd roared with laughter at the man’s quite unusual appearance.
“He’s bright purple!” a little sandy haired boy cried out.
“He may be bright purple, young man, but he’s still alive,” said the doctor. “He can still enjoy the sound of the birds singing in the trees and the beautiful sight of his grandchildren playing in the long grass. He is a happy and content man now, knowing that he cannot die of a respiratory disease. Tell the people how the Purple Potion changed your life, Piers.”
Piers opened his mouth to speak but instead a cough came out. He tried again but every time he tried to talk the cough seemed to worsen. The doctor intervened:
“Piers is just a little nervous about speaking in front of such a large crowd. Please bear with him. He’s just a little shy.”
But Piers’ cough was getting worse. He was now doubled up and gasping for air. He slumped to the floor in an untidy heap. There was complete silence for a few moments, as the audience wondered what was happening. Was this part of the show or were things going a bit wrong?
“I think he’s dead,” the little sandy haired boy exclaimed rather joyously.
“Of course he’s not dead!” retorted Doctor Hogwash, desperately poking Piers with his stick, which caused him to groan and then to cough some more. “He is just a little erm…under the weather, that’s all. But, as a highly qualified and experienced doctor, I can assure you that without the Purple Potion he would have been as dead as a nail in a coffin.” He pulled a whistle from his top pocket and blew it. At once a burly brute of a man appeared and clumsily dragged Piers off stage. A string of backstage bumps and clangs further disturbed the doctor’s flow as his inept helpers maneuvered Piers off the wagon.
Slightly flustered, the doctor tried to ignore what had just happened and move the show on swiftly. He focused his attention on a young, well dressed man at the front of the crowd.
“And you, Sir. You look like someone who might enjoy the good things in life. You’re a young man and I wager you like to frequent the local bars and saloons when you have a few spare dollars in your pocket. What would life be like without wine, women and song, eh? Tedious! Miserable! But what if all the bars in this town stopped serving you? You might think it will never happen but we’re closer to it than you think. Thank goodness my dear friend Sheriff Johnson is devoted to keeping the people of this town healthy and free from respiratory diseases. He has already taken the Purple Potion himself and is immensely grateful to me for it. He now wants to ensure everyone else takes it and he is ready to use his powers to encourage this. Very soon the bars and saloons will only be serving purple people, as that will be the only way we can prove that we are not a health risk to our fellow citizens.”
“Well you’re not purple! How comes you haven’t taken it yourself if it’s so good?” the young man retorted with a disbelieving smirk.
“His nose looks a bit purple,” the little sandy haired boy shouted out, only to be clipped round the ear by his mother.
“Sir, I can assure you that I regularly take the Purple Potion,” said the doctor. “The pure hearted and virtuous amongst you will have no problem in seeing my purple pigment. To them I am as purple as a freshly picked plum or the purple emperor butterfly. It is the doubting Thomases and the unbelievers who refuse to see what is in front of their eyes. They are nothing but wretched conspiracy theorists and their subversive nature is distorting their visual perception. If you cannot put your faith and trust into medical experts like me then you are a fool to yourself and a menace to society.”
“You’re a damned charlatan!” a rough looking man at the back of the crowd shouted out.
Doctor Hogwash was prepared for this. His henchmen were strategically dotted around. Within seconds two ape-like stooges grabbed the heckler and dragged him over to a disused well, a few yards behind the crowd. They lifted him, as though he was a piece of litter on the street and threw him head first down the well. An eerie shriek echoed up the well as the man fell to the bottom. There was a stunned silence while members of the audience wondered whether to fix their stares towards the stage or behind them towards the well.
“He’s beginning to look a little bit more purple to me now,” a man at the front of the crowd said quietly to his wife.
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Hooray, we’re free at last!
But keep your masks on
(first published 19/07/21)
Yippee! It feels great doesn’t it? It’s almost like the last seventeen months didn’t happen at all and we’re just continuing where we left off. Admittedly there are a few minor changes, but they’re all positive ones. For instance that ingenious little Victorian invention that has saved literally millions from dying of Covid: The face mask. Whoever would have thought this wonderful symbol of human kindness would have ended up a permanent fixture in our society? You don’t have to wear them all the time now though…or maybe you do. It is a little confusing and many people are uncertain what they should do or indeed what they are required to do by law. What follows will hopefully throw some light on what your moral and legal obligations are with regards to face masks:
It is widely understood now that face masks are not intended so much to protect the wearer but to protect others. Therefore, regardless of what the rules are you have a public duty to wear one in certain situations or you will be risking the lives of others. Old people are particularly vulnerable and so we should be especially careful when in their company; for example when we are queuing. Old people love queuing and cannot help themselves from joining a queue whenever they see one. Therefore if you are queuing for something, whatever it may be, then please put your mask on as there are bound to be some senior citizens within spluttering distance. Also, if music is your thing and you like to attend live performances then please consider what sort of age group the audience is. If it is a Rolling Stones concert, for instance, then exercise the same caution that you would in a care home setting, especially if you are near the stage.
Another section of society that we should be especially protective of is obese people. Obese people can be found in various types of social settings but fortunately they move very slowly, even more slowly than old people, so you will have plenty of time to put your mask on if you see one. Also try to stay two metres away from any obese people you may see. This might be difficult if you are in a confined space such as a lift. However, an easy solution would be to get down on all fours and put your nose against the floor of the lift. As long as the obese person isn’t a dwarf then this should create enough distance between your facial orifices. If you’re in a place that you think might be particularly popular with members of the obese community then please keep your face mask on. For example, it is vitally important that you exercise the utmost care when in fast food chains. Rules will normally allow you to unmask whilst eating but realistically you are no safer sitting down eating than you are when you’re walking around. Wearing a mask whilst eating does pose a problem but one simple solution is the nose bag technique. Cut up your meal into small pieces and fill your mask with your food like a horse’s nose bag. You can then just sit comfortably and nibble away without being a risk to anyone. Ask for a straw for your fizzy drink and simply stick it out of the side of your mask/nose bag. You can then tilt your head to one side and hold your paper cup at an angle of 45 degrees when you want a sip of your sugary fizz.
With variants such as the Delta and the Lambda now circulating, the middle aged and even the young are also in danger. So if you are sharing an enclosed public space with young, old, middle aged or obese people then please put on your mask. In addition it is advisable to mask up when you are in an open space if there are people in close proximity, especially if they are young, old, middle aged or obese. In fact it is best to put your mask on as soon as you leave the front door and keep it on until you arrive home.
When you return home it will be quite safe for you to take off your mask. That is assuming you live by yourself. If you share your home with friends or family and they happen to be old, young, middle aged or obese, then that is a different matter so please remember that charity starts at home. Your family members are no more immune to your germs than anyone else is and these are the people you care for the most. You should therefore if anything be even more vigilant when you are indoors with your own family and keep your mask on at all times. If you share a bed with your partner then this is without doubt one of the biggest risk factors for germs and viruses. I am sure you do not have to be told that intimate relations with your partner are totally out of the question at the moment but even lying next to them all night is incredibly dangerous. We move around all the time in our sleep and so it is inevitable that at some point during the night you will be breathing in one another’s aerosols. Remember: lying with your naked nose close to your partner’s aerosol could be fatal, so please ensure that you both put on your face masks before you go to bed.
So from an ethical point of view you will need to wear your mask in any indoor or outdoor setting including your own home, unless you live alone. I hope that like me you are a very ethical person, but if you are not and you just want to know what your legal requirements are then the following might be helpful:
Essentially, Boris Johnson has stated that wearing a mask will not be a legal requirement but that there will be an expectation for you to wear one. You might say it is expectory rather than mandatory. Members of the public and businesses might share this expectation and so if you enter an indoor public space without a mask then some people might be surprised or even disappointed. People with these expectations might even comment on your physical appearance. They might say things like, “Well I never expected to see that!” or “Blimey, that was a bit unexpected!” Staff members could get involved and they might expect you to leave. They won’t actually ask you to leave because they have no authority to do so but they will nevertheless be quite surprised when you do not leave. There might be an expectation for the police to attend the incident. It is doubtful that anyone will actually call the police because no crime will have been committed but nevertheless the police may arrive unexpectedly and not do anything. Everyone will end up feeling quite let down and embarrassed for not living up to everyone else’s expectations and you will go home wishing you had not been responsible for such a disappointing non-event.
In summary, there is no longer a legal requirement for you to wear a face mask in public but there is an expectation. Whether you decide to wear one or not, therefore, depends on whether you want to live up to other people’s expectations. And of course whether you worry about leaving a trail of destruction everywhere you go with your foul, Covid-ridden drool.
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The beautiful game
All you need to know about face masks and Covid BS
(first published 15/07/21)
The latest big debate in Covid biosecurity (Covid BS) is whether we should continue to wear face masks when the mandate is lifted. Boris Johnson has now said that there would be an expectation for people to wear them even when it ceases to be law. A few days previously on breakfast television Dr. Sarah Jarvis boldly suggested that sensible people will carry on wearing face masks. But the face covering debate is far more complex than that. Rather than looking at the debate as a polarised argument between sensible and non sensible people, perhaps we should see it for what it really is: A beautiful game of consumers, manufacturers, distributors and sponsors all competing against each other for brand legitimacy. Think of it as the Covid BS Cup. So let’s have a look at some of the top teams in the competition, their team kit and their different styles of playing the game:
Covid Devotees United is one of the most popular teams of the tournament and team members will all have a face covering of the very finest quality. Covid Devotees go to great length to find the right face mask and will do a lot of research and shopping around to find one that tells the world how special their team is. Take for instance the Airpop Active+ Halo Washable Reusable Face Mask. This multi-layered, smart face mask with an air quality and breathing sensor is available to purchase from Amazon for £149.99. This is a Premier League face mask without a doubt and the wearer dons this mask with pride. If only you could see through the mask you would spot the knowing smile that says their team is headed for certain victory; If not the Covid BS Cup then quite probably the 2021 Virtue Signalling Trophy.
The pin-up boys of the Covid BS game are the jaunty young Metrosexual Rangers. They don’t particularly care whether their face mask works or not just so long as it looks cool. If you fancy yourself as a Metrosexual Ranger then you might want to start with Hawes and Curtis, suppliers of a wide range of styles from Burberry to more traditional paisley patterns. These suave and sophisticated masks, made from 100 percent silk retail at just £15 each and you can even get ties and handkerchiefs to match. Please remember to take off your mask before you blow your nose on the handkerchief though. For the Metro men the Covid BS game is all about being trendy and they are the proud peacocks of the competition; all vying for the attention of the opposite sex. Could they win the cup? It’s unlikely, as they very rarely score but they are always entertaining to watch.
Of course the game of Covid BS is not just for men and the female equivalent of the Metrosexual Rangers are the Sexy Sassy Rovers. We suspect they all have beautiful smiles even though we cannot see them but luckily for us we can see all those pretty floral designs they are displaying on their face masks. If you like the idea of being a Sassy Sexy Rover then why not try a set of five assorted Tana Lawn cotton face coverings which you can purchase from Liberty’s online store for £45. Or if Kate Middleton is more your look then you could go for a cheeky blue and white polkadot pattern available from Redbubble for just under ten pounds. Although predominantly a female club, Sexy Sassy Rovers have a progressive ethos and welcome all new members regardless of their gender identity. They do however suggest that if you have a beard you trim it first to prevent any embarrassing ‘bikini line’ type overgrowth.
In stark contrast, members of the Aimless Wanderers are not attempting to look pretty and will usually be seen donning something quite drab like a supermarket throwaway mask. If you would like to join the Aimless Wanderers then you can purchase a ten pack of disposable masks from Tescos for £10, which if used frugally could last you a lifetime. Aimless Wanderers go with the flow and they live in hope that life will eventually go back to normal but their team is rapidly slipping down the league table. Sadly they are losing faith in the game and they can’t even remember their team colours anymore. “Is it blue on the outside and white on the inside or the other way round?” The standard way for Aimless Wanderers to wear their masks is just below the nose but they do occasionally pull them up if there is an emergency Covid BS situation or if someone farts on the train. At times their mask will slip down below their chin but it will never come off completely, unless of course they get a transfer to Covidiot City.
Covidiot City are the only team who do not wear any face coverings at all. Some argue that they should be thrown out of the competition and that they are no more than uncontrollable thugs. They are certainly not team players and seem to have no love of the beautiful game of Covid BS. Covidiot City are notorious for bringing the game into disrepute with their cynical tactics; often disrupting the game with their pointless protests over official decisions. Unfortunately though, they are very resolute. They seem to have incredible staying power and they could win the game if it is decided on fixed penalties.
Covid BS is a funny old game and sometimes the underdog surprises everyone by coming out on top. So what happens if the mask mandate really does end on the 19th July and Aimless Wanderers or Covidiot City win the trophy? All the other teams cannot simply hide their face coverings away and wait for the next big Covid BS tournament. Think about how you felt when England was finally knocked out of the UEFA Cup on penalties. Did you immediately run up to the bedroom and take down the England flag from the window? No, of course you didn’t and it will probably be there for a good while as you defiantly show your support for your beloved team. Our St. George’s flags will continue to fly in all their glory as they have done following all our disappointments over the last 55 years. This is no doubt how the Devotees feel about things, as they have already stated that they will continue to wear their face coverings whatever happens. But before you laugh at them remember this: Chris Whitty is their Harry Kane and Patrick Vallance is their Luke Shaw. So please respect the other side and be gracious in victory.
In truth, the game of Covid BS is much more ambiguous than football and it probably won’t be at all clear who the winners and losers are after the 19th July. Maybe it’s all just in the mind and if you think you’ve won the competition then you have. So what should we all do after the 19th July? My suggestion is that if you want to go maskless then feel free. However, if you want to proudly display your team colours for a little while afterwards then go ahead. The Covid BS game will continue for a long time but we should all celebrate the end of this particular tournament in our own unique way without shame or fear of ridicule. As for me, I’ll still be feeling a little bit nervous after Freedom Day, so I’m going to continue wearing my exemption lanyard for the time being.
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Zero Covid?
Call an emergency COBRA meeting!
(08/07/21)
Something had happened that no-one could ever have predicted. Covid-19 had disappeared completely from the UK. Viruses are notoriously unpredictable and Covid in particular had been full of surprises but this latest twist in the tale had baffled everyone, not least of all the UK’s top scientists. The country had gone from over 24,000 cases a day to zero in the space of a week. The Prime Minister was naturally overjoyed but at the same time cautious of provoking too much excitement amongst an elated public. The Cabinet Secretary, the most senior civil servant, advised the Prime Minister to call a COBRA meeting to discuss the possible implications of this very welcome but quite startling development.
Something didn’t seem quite right though, as the Prime Minister walked into the briefing room. He expected all his colleagues to be smiling and cheering but instead they all had grim expressions on their faces. His heart suddenly sank. So eager was he to discover the reason for this surprisingly sombre mood that he did not bother with the usual formalities to commence the meeting.
“You’re not going to tell me they’ve found some more cases somewhere, are you?” The Prime Minister asked the Cabinet Secretary, anxiously.
“I only wish that were true,” said the Cabinet Secretary.
“Why on earth would you want that?” asked the Prime Minister, quite perplexed.
“Well erm…” The Cabinet Secretary cleared his throat. “Zero Covid is something the Civil Service was not really expecting and we have not made any emergency plans for such an eventuality.”
“Emergency plans?” enquired the Prime Minister, in disbelief. “Covid was the emergency! The emergency has disappeared, for heaven’s sake!”
The Cabinet Secretary elucidated:
“For quite some time now we have been dealing with a national crisis, which we were told was going to be with us for years. We cannot simply stop dealing with it just because it isn’t there anymore. You see the Civil Service is like a huge ship with a tiny rudder. Once it has taken a certain course it becomes very difficult to turn the ship around. Covid is what we do now. It’s how we operate. Easing restrictions is one thing but coming out of the Covid crisis completely is fraught with difficulties. It makes coming out of the EU look like a walk in the park.”
“I’ve never heard such nonsense,” said the Prime Minister. “How can you deal with an emergency that isn’t there?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised, Prime Minister. The Civil Service has had years of practice with that sort of thing.”
“It’s absurd!” the Prime Minister exclaimed. “Why on earth can we not just go back to normal again if there is no threat anymore?”
“Our economy, our politics and our way of life is based on a united effort to beat Covid,” said the Cabinet Secretary. “If we actually achieve that aim then the whole fabric that ties our society together disintegrates. Without Covid we’re in a very precarious position.”
“I cannot believe what I am hearing,” said the Prime Minister, turning to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. “So what are your thoughts on this, Chancellor?”
“Well you know how I feel about lockdown, Prime Minister”, said the Chancellor. “I would love to end all restrictions and commit to never shutting the country down again, but having spoken to my Permanent Secretary this morning I realise it is not that simple. Just ending the crisis suddenly would be disastrous. We’ve put everything into it and the economy is now dependent upon it. Our traditional industries have all declined but we have had major new growth in the Covid sector. As you know the pharmaceutical industry is currently thriving. Their profits are reliant on vaccination take up which in turn is reliant on people’s fear of the virus. If we take that fear away then shares will start to plummet. The same is true of the test and trace industry. It’s going to be very difficult to convince everyone to get tested for something that doesn’t exist. And how do we persuade them to download all the latest Covid apps? Then of course we have Covid advertising, Covid insurance and the vast array of Covid safety products including hand sanitiser, antiviral cleaning products, Perspex screens, disposable facemasks, washable facemasks, layered facemasks, filtered facemasks, fashion facemasks…”
“All right, all right, I get the picture,” said the Prime Minister. “But surely we cannot give our wholehearted support to businesses selling products that are unnecessary to tackle a problem that doesn’t exist. Besides which, we’re throwing billions of pounds of public money into these projects. The Government cannot justify propping up industries that have failed due to their own lack of foresight… unless it’s the banking industry of course. But in any case that was the Labour Government.”
“To be fair we supported them at the time, Prime Minister. Besides which, it would be terribly irresponsible of us to destabilise these new developing industries. Inevitably there would be thousands of job losses and a stock market crash, just at the time we are trying to Build Back Better. Ending Covid now would be a complete and utter disaster, Prime Minister.”
“What poppycock! We’ve been trying to beat this thing for what seems like an eternity and now we’ve beaten it you’re telling me we cannot live without it.”
The Prime Minister turned to the Health Secretary feeling hopeful that the news would be better appreciated.
“Health Secretary, surely it must be wonderful news for you?”
“Well yes, it is wonderful news Prime Minister but…”
“Oh don’t tell me,” interrupted the Prime Minister, “Your Permanent Secretary finds it all a bit inconvenient?”
“Well yes, you could put it like that, Prime Minister. Things have never run so smoothly since the NHS stopped virtually all non-emergency treatment, face to face consultations and cancer screening. Staff members have been able to spend more time on vitally important tasks that are often neglected, such as risk assessments, improvement plans, budgeting plans, equality impact assessments and unconscious bias training. Standards of hygiene are excellent and hospital running costs have come right down. Over 95% of hospitals being inspected are currently being rated as either good or outstanding. This is totally unprecedented and as a consequence of this staff morale is higher than it has ever been before.”
“Well that’s all very fine and dandy but what about hospital waiting lists? Hospitals may be getting glowing reports but they don’t seem to be seeing very many patients at the moment,” the Prime Minister responded incredulously.
“Yes, the waiting lists are getting rather long but the public seem to be okay with that. Opinion polls suggest that service user satisfaction is at an all time high. Patients who are having life saving treatment delayed are generally being quite understanding about the situation and very few of them are making complaints. Public support surged during the Clap For Carers campaign and the accompanying TikTok dance videos that medical staff did were hugely popular. There are plans afoot to launch similar campaigns to combat any possible dissatisfaction over long waiting lists. Covid has been an invaluable asset to us in garnering such tremendous support from the public.”
“So if waiting lists continue to grow you’re going to get everyone to start clapping again?”
The Prime Minister was battle weary. This was not how he had expected the meeting to unfold. His colleagues’ position on the matter seemed so warped that he was beginning to question his own sanity. He tried to stay calm and continue the meeting in a professional manner, despite his throbbing head and the nervous twitch that had started in his right eye. He turned to the Home Secretary.
“And your thoughts please Home Secretary? I’m sure the police will be eager to return to their normal duties without having to worry about Covid.”
“Well if you’d asked me last week, Prime Minister, then I would have agreed with you but…”
“Let me guess – you’ve been talking to your Permanent Secretary about it,” interrupted the Prime Minister.
“Yes, that’s correct Prime Minister. He informs me that the Police seem to be adapting to their new role as bio-security guards and the public are much more sympathetic towards them than they were at the start of the pandemic. Initially they got some bad press for a few inconsistencies and heavy handed responses…”
“Yes, arresting pensioners for sitting on park benches didn’t go down too well, did it?” the Prime Minister interjected.
“Well there were a few anecdotal stories of over-zealous police officers but community relations are much better now. Covid restrictions have become a very useful part of the policing toolkit and officers have found the fight against Covid very empowering and rewarding. Lockdowns and curfews reduce crime rates enormously but the Police are not advocating anything like that on a permanent basis. However, it would be reassuring to know that we could implement certain emergency measures from the Coronavirus Act as and when we need to. Doing away with Covid completely would be a rash move and it would make things very difficult for the police.”
There were a few moments silence while the Prime Minister tried to collect his thoughts. The country had actually achieved what everyone hoped for but dare not dream of: Zero Covid. Yet now we had got rid of this terrible disease all his colleagues seemed to want it back. The Prime Minister struggled to maintain his equilibrium as conflicting thoughts rushed through his head. Had everyone in the room gone mad or was it him? Could this refusal to let go of Covid merely be put down to the stifling bureaucracy of the Civil Service or was there some deeper malice behind it? Was it paranoid of him to ask such questions? Was he becoming a conspiracy theorist? He pulled himself together.
“Okay, so it seems we cannot live without Covid anymore,” said the Prime Minister to the Cabinet Secretary, feeling rather depleted. “Is there an answer? Do you have a plan?”
“Well possibly Prime Minister. You see the whole question of whether Covid still exists or not revolves around how we define a Covid case and the criteria for testing. Currently WHO protocols state that PCR testing should only run at a maximum of 40 cycles of amplification. However, there is a caveat to all WHO protocols which allows for some flexibility in the case of a national emergency. The disappearance of Covid would most definitely qualify as a national emergency for all the reasons colleagues have just stated. Therefore we would be at liberty to increase PCR cycles to around 60 or 65 and that way we would be certain to find enough cases.”
“Isn’t that rather dishonest? Surely we cannot just pretend people are ill with Covid when they’re not.”
“Oh no Prime Minister, please do not put words into my mouth. We would not dream of pretending people are ill with Covid when they are not. Our colleagues at Public Health England have excellent ethical standards and we would never encourage them to do anything remotely dishonest or misleading. We do not need to pretend people are ill. We just need to find cases. In fact it’s more or less what we’ve been doing for the last year. We just need to adjust the parameters slightly.”
“But surely there would be no correlation between cases and hospitalisations if we did that. We were finding it hard enough as it was to make that link.”
“That shouldn’t be too much of a problem. There will be enough people already in hospital who test positive. On paper it will all look fine. We’ll just put out a D-notice to stop the MSM reporting on what patients are actually being admitted for. There may be a few rogue reporters who suggest that no-one is being admitted to hospital for Covid anymore but these kinds of subversive viewpoints are easily discredited. It’s really not that much different to what we’ve been doing anyway. The only difference is that no-one will be getting sick with Covid, which in my opinion is a very positive thing and something that we should all be tremendously proud of.”
The Prime Minister felt like crying. It was all so bonkers that he could now not see it any other way…It had to be a conspiracy. But who was pulling the strings? Who had infiltrated the Civil Service and his parliamentary colleagues? This was his last chance to man up and make a stand against this tyranny. He had allowed himself to be pushed around for too long. He was in charge after all wasn’t he? A line had been crossed and it was time for him to assert himself. It was time for the Prime Minister to grow a pair. He rose to his feet.
“I’m sorry but this is complete madness. However you try to dress it up we would be lying to the public. We would be telling them that Covid is still a threat when in actual fact it had disappeared altogether. I cannot permit this. At the next press conference I am going to level with the people of this country and tell them that Covid has gone and that’s that!” The Prime Minister slumped back down in his chair, emotionally drained and trembling with anger.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said the Cabinet Secretary.
“And why not?” asked the Prime Minister.
“Because I’m in charge now.”
The Cabinet Secretary let out a hideous laugh as he undid his collar and tie to reveal the edge of a latex mask which he began to peel off his head. Was this really happening or was the Prime Minister having a nervous breakdown? He wondered if he was hallucinating as he gazed at the chilling spectacle before him. Who could the evil genius behind the mask possibly be? Was it Bill Gates or Klaus Schwab? Time seemed to slow down as the deranged imposter’s face gradually became unmasked and hundreds of thoughts started to race through the Prime Minister’s confused and petrified mind. This vile monster’s chin was now clearly visible. The skin looked old and lizard like. Could it be Tony Blair? No, he could see his hair now and it seemed to be a strange mix of dyed red with blonde highlights. Was he the Joker from Batman? The mask was being stretched like a rubber band under tension and then suddenly it pinged off, revealing the power crazed lunatic who was about to topple the elected leader of this once free democracy.
“God help us!” exclaimed the Prime Minister. “It’s Charlie Mullins of Pimlico Plumbers!”
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Cheer up Matt!
Gina tries to console her hapless boyfriend
(first published 30/06/21)
“There, there my sweet Matty-Munchkin, please stop crying. It’s not all that bad. I know it’s going to be difficult to make the last year look good on your CV but at least you’ve got an excellent reference from Boris. All right, everyone knows he really thought you were totally f**king hopeless but let’s not dwell on that. I’m sure your friends will look after you anyway. Let’s face it you’re entitled to some sort of return on the £15 billion worth of PPE contracts you handed out to them. And the shares in Topwood are looking great too!
Yes, you do look like a massive hypocrite now you’ve been caught breaking your own rules but the chances are you’ll bounce back soon enough, just like Professor Pantsdown did. Oh sorry, I know you don’t like me calling him that, I meant to say Professor Lockdown. Your indiscretions will all be forgotten by the end of the year and the public will just view you as they view most other politicians: unfavourably.
Oh, I wish you would say something my Cutie-Patootie. All you’ve done is cry for the last four days now. Have a little sip of the milk that I’ve warmed up for you – I’ve added honey and everything, just how you like it. I know how disappointed you must be. I know you thought being in charge of the pandemic was going to be great for your career but things don’t always work out the way we expect them to. Look at me: I thought having an affair with you would be a good career move but all I got was a £15,000 salary and a bit of hanky-panky in your office. And they were the good times. All I have now is a blubbering wreck of a boyfriend with no job.
You’ve just got to face up to reality. I know you were hoping to wriggle out of it but your idea of using Dominic’s ‘loss of vision due to Covid’ excuse would not have worked on this occasion. People would never have believed your eyesight was so bad that you mistook me for your wife. But then on the other hand perhaps you really should have gone to Specsavers. After all you did fail to spot the rather large CCTV dome camera in the middle of your office ceiling. Oh sorry darling, that was below the belt. I didn’t mean to make you cry more, I’m just having a little joke with you to try and cheer you up.
Oh come on, it’s no use hiding under the duvet. Sooner or later you’ll have to show your face in public again. Well the top half of your face anyway. At least the face mask will cover up your blushes.
Look at it this way: It’s not really a fall from grace because no-one really approved of you in the first place. You’ve never had the respect you deserved from the public or your colleagues; I don’t know why. I wonder if it was all those big whoppers you told about test and trace. I suppose being caught drinking in the Commons bar after curfew didn’t help either. I’ve always loved you though, despite your complete lack of integrity – or maybe because of it. I guess I’m just a sucker for bad boys. I think the Queen has a soft spot for you too if her remarks to Boris at the Privy Council meeting are anything to go by. I suppose being called a ‘poor man’ by her wasn’t the legacy you’d hoped for but at least you got the sympathy vote. Maybe you remind her of Andrew.
But we all make mistakes my sweet Stud-Muffin and you’re being much too hard on yourself. No one should condemn you for the fact that over 42,000 care home residents died due to the large numbers being discharged from hospital with Covid; it was just one of those things. Okay you were in charge of the hospital discharge policy and the fact that there were no test kits was also down to you too but we should look at the glass as being half full. There are over 490,000 care home residents who are still alive. Maybe they’d rather be dead, as everything that made life worth living was taken away from them but that’s not entirely your fault. It’s largely your fault but it’s not entirely your fault.
And all that criticism about PPE is just unfair. Who could have guessed that the massive order you got the RAF to fly in from Turkey would turn out to be useless? Your contact from the local kebab shop seemed to be such a nice, helpful chap too.
We should be focussing on some of your major achievements anyway my Snookie-Bear. For instance setting up all those Nightingale hospitals was a remarkable accomplishment. It’s such a shame that the NHS didn’t have anyone to staff them but how could you possibly have known that? I suppose you could have checked beforehand but it’s not fair to expect you to think of everything just because you are the Health Secretary…erm I mean were the Health Secretary.
At least there was one thing you got away with though. No-one ever found out that you didn’t really have the Covid jab. Your PR team worked wonders on that little stunt. The publicity shots were amazing and the make-up girl who switched the syringes at the last minute was an utter pro. Professor Van-Tam had no idea what was going on! Though I do personally think you were a bit over cautious about the vaccine for someone who usually likes sailing so close to the wind. I know the jabs are a bit dodgy but let’s face it there’s a much bigger risk of you getting killed by your wife. And if she doesn’t get you my husband probably will.
Oh come on do stop blubbering! It’s getting embarrassing now. Here, I’ve got a little something to cheer you up. No not that – you randy tiger! Just something that might assist you with your next career move. The other day I fluttered my eyelashes at the security guard who looks after the CCTV in Boris’s office. Okay, it was a little bit more than an eyelash flutter, but needs must when the Devil drives. Anyway he gave me this still shot from some recent video footage…
Yes, I know it is a bit disturbing to think we had tea and biscuits sitting at that very desk the other week. Hopefully they gave it a good wipe down first.”
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A visit to A & E
How Roger fell out of love with the NHS
(first published 24/06/21)
Roger was standing in the queue for Accident and Emergency at his local hospital. It was easy to count the people in front of him as the queue was very neatly organised with everyone standing on a red circle, each one two metres from the next. There were thirteen people in front of Roger and things were moving very slowly. The hospital had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to make the wait for emergency medical treatment as comfortable as possible. Roger had a bandage around one side of his head, courtesy of his firm’s first aid box. The bandage was covering his left ear (or I should say the part of his head where his left ear used to be) and it was wrapped at a slight angle above his right ear. Roger’s left ear was in his sandwich box, which he was holding under his arm. He’d washed out the remnants of the cheese and pickle, which he had enjoyed before his unfortunate accident and he had packed the sandwich box out with ice, which he managed to find in the office fridge.
Roger’s head was throbbing. There’s something about pain anywhere in your head that makes it seem worse than pain in other parts of your body. But in a way, the anxiety was worse than the pain as on a psychological level Roger was quite attached to his left ear and the thought of it being in his sandwich box unnerved him somewhat.
The day had been going reasonably well prior to Roger’s freak accident, aside from the distracting noise of the builders. They had been kitting out the desks on the mezzanine floor with Covid-safe Perspex screens. Staverton Stationery Products was very proud of its excellent health and safety standards and they now had every box ticked on their Covid risk assessment. Roger’s accident was just one of those things. It was unfortunate indeed that the edge of the mezzanine floor was directly above Roger’s desk. And what bad luck that the builders had put their heavy toolbox on top of the stepladder, which at that point had several Perspex sheets leaning against it and was in turn leaning precariously against the balustrade. Maybe things would have been different if they’d given the builders IQ tests instead of PCR tests before they were allowed into the building. Anyway, you get the idea – no need to go into graphic detail.
Half an hour had passed and Roger was now at the front of the queue. This was just the first hurdle to cross before patients were then allowed to filter through to triage. A short male orderly with a clipboard and an austere, self-important look had been interviewing the patients. It was the biggest responsibility the orderly had held yet and the power had clearly gone to his head. It was Roger’s turn to be seen.
“What brings you here today?” asked the orderly abruptly.
“My left ear has been severed off by a plummeting chisel,” Roger explained succinctly.
“Have you had a new or continuous cough in the last week?”
“No.”
“Any loss or change to your sense of smell or taste?”
“No.”
“Runny nose, shortness of breath or high temperature?”
“No. I am in rather a lot of pain…”
“Muscle pains, cough, sore throat, chest pain, fatigue or muscle pains?”
“No.”
Roger had noticed that the orderly was repeating some of the questions but he thought it might be quicker to just run with it.
“Fatigue, confusion, muscle pain, shortness of breath, diarrhoea, abdominal pain or fatigue?”
“No.”
“Sore throat, hoarseness, diarrhoea , fever, loss of appetite, continuous cough, hoarseness, sore throat, loss of smell, change in appetite, fatigue, confusion, runny nose or diarrhoea?”
“No.”
“Headache or fuzzy headedness?”
Roger could not take anymore, he let out a loud scream.
“My left ear has been severed off! I don’t exactly feel fresh as a daisy!”
The orderly scowled at Roger and noted something on his clipboard. He then poked a thermometer into Roger’s remaining ear to take his temperature. He made a note of it.
“Have you had a new or continuous cough in the last week?” asked the orderly again.
“You asked me that just a minute ago,” Roger said in a slightly exasperated tone.
“This is a different form,” said the orderly.
“Well can’t you just copy the answers over from the first form?”
“Please don’t raise your voice,” said the orderly. “We do not tolerate abusive behaviour towards NHS staff.”
“I have not had a sore throat, a cough, a snotty nose, a squirty bum, a temperature or anything of the kind in the last week. I am ‘ere because of this ‘ere ear!”
Roger took the lid off his sandwich box to reveal to the orderly his severed ear. Unfortunately, the sight of his own ear in the sandwich box had the effect of making Roger gag slightly, which led to a brief spell of coughing. The orderly made another note on his clipboard.
“You have a cough, a headache and your temperature is 0.2 degrees above the normal range. These are all symptoms of Covid-19. Did you call 119 before you came here?”
“No,” said Roger, slightly tearfully.
The orderly made another note on his clipboard and handed Roger a face mask.
“Please put on this face mask,” said the orderly.
“I have a medical exemption,” said Roger.
“Please be specific, or else put on the mask.”
“I’ve got one ear!” exclaimed Roger.
“Then put it on please,” said the orderly, misunderstanding Roger’s response.
“I said I’ve got one ear not I’ve got one here, you stupid little man!”
Roger took the face mask from the orderly and put the elastic loop around his right ear.
“This side fits nicely around my right ear. However, you may notice, despite being a cretinous, fascist, little twerp with an inflated ego and a brain the size of a pinhead, that as I stretch it across my face there is nothing to attach the other side to.”
“You have Covid symptoms and you are endangering other patients,” said the orderly. “Having one ear missing is no excuse for not covering your face, as there are alternatives.”
He pointed to a poster on the wall depicting a smiley young girl wearing a face visor. The irony of the words on the poster “Be kind to others,” was lost on the orderly.
“Oh yes of course,” said Roger sarcastically. “I could have ordered one on Amazon Prime. Waiting one more day would not have been a big deal. I probably will have died from bleeding anyway by the time you’ve finished interrogating me!”
“If you carry on this abusive behaviour Sir then I will be forced to call security and have you thrown out of the hospital.”
“Abusive behaviour!” Roger exclaimed in disbelief. “I haven’t even started yet.”
Roger was usually a very calm and passive man but we all have our breaking point and this was it. In a flash, he grabbed the orderly by the throat. He didn’t care what the consequences were now and he even wondered if he might get quicker medical attention if he got arrested and banged up in the police cells. The orderly struggled to get away from Roger and both men tripped and stumbled to the floor. They were clumsily wrestling on the hard ground like two old drunks. The orderly was desperately trying to free himself but Roger had a tight grip on the his throat and would not let go. His ear hurt like hell but the adrenalin had taken over. The patients waiting in the queue seemed rather indifferent to the grotesque spectacle before their eyes. Most were just fiddling with their smartphones whilst one or two made disapproving tut-tut noises. Security was nowhere to be seen. Roger’s opponent stopped wriggling and Roger wondered for a moment if he had killed him. He got back on his feet and could see that the orderly was still alive, although he did seem a bit the worse for wear and had started to cough.
“That’s a nasty cough,” said Roger, unmercifully. “Have you recently been tested for Covid?”
Roger felt jubilant and brimming with schadenfreude. He had destroyed his torturer and no-one seemed to bat an eyelid. Miraculously he appeared to have got away with it. Maybe the other patients were more concerned with their own problems. He felt that he had not been too rough on the orderly under the circumstances and he was in the right place for medical attention anyway. Being a member of staff, he might even be able to get a fast-track service and be seen in less than four hours. Feeling like an alpha male, Roger picked up his sandwich box and swaggered casually over to triage. “That’s one way of getting seen,” he thought to himself.
There were office divider screens surrounding the triage nurses and so they had no idea of what had just gone on. Roger said hello to the triage nurse who greeted him. Thank goodness, he was in safe hands now.
“Have you had a new or continuous cough in the last week?” asked the triage nurse…
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An apology
Please forgive me for my poor choice of words.
(first published 21/06/21)
I would like to make a public apology for my previous blog ‘Nerd immunity is the way forward’. I realise now that it was crass and insensitive of me and I understand how the article must have caused a great deal of offence amongst the nerd community. The choice of the word ‘nerd’ to describe members of the Covid cult was an unfortunate one and I am deeply sorry if I hurt anyone’s feelings. Following The Conservative Woman publishing my article, I was made aware of the fact that I did not understand the true definition of the word ‘nerd’ and I therefore felt ashamed of my bigoted views about this much persecuted section of society. I decided to seek expert advice to help me do some much needed soul searching.
After some brief internet research I managed to find the contact details of Professor Seamus Forbreathing, Head of Unconscious Bias Training at the University of Upper Derone Bottom. The professor explained to me that the word ‘nerd’ had a slightly different nuance in the seventies when it was used as a derogatory term for someone who was unattractive and socially embarrassing, rather like the word ‘dork’ or ‘wally’. It later became synonymous with computer boffs and suchlike, more especially now with television sitcoms like ‘The Big Bang Theory’. He said that my apparent ignorance of the enormous contribution nerds have made to society in recent years through science, information technology and many other top professions is an unfortunate reflection of my super-cool-dude privilege. I was surprised by the professor’s suggestion that I had super-cool-dude privilege, as if anything I would place myself just left of centre on the nerd/super-cool-dude spectrum but I wanted to keep an open mind. The professor recommended a day’s intensive unconscious bias training, which I was only too happy to sign up to.
The training was hugely beneficial and it highlighted a whole raft of social privileges that I was unknowingly benefitting from. These included white privilege, heterosexual privilege, Essex man privilege and brown hair going slightly grey round the sides privilege. The professor was forced to concede though, that I did not have super-cool-dude privilege and that I was in fact slightly nerdy myself. I asked the professor why I would have been so prejudiced against nerds if I do not have super-cool-dude privilege. “I don’t know, maybe you’re just a bit of a dick,” the professor answered. I took offence and accused him of committing a hate crime against me. Professor Seamus then grabbed me around the collar and said, “Listen sunshine, I make the fecking rules around here!”
Professor Seamus Forbreathing certainly gave me plenty to think about and I have to say I came away from the unconscious bias training a better man. We’re all on a journey and I am trying to learn and develop my understanding of my place in this world every day.
I would have preferred to choose a much more insulting word for Covid devotees and as a very smart person (probably a nerd) pointed out, the only crime nerds are guilty of is having a name that rhymes with ‘herd’. Sheep-brained-pillock immunity didn’t seem to have the same comedy value as nerd immunity but poetic licence is no excuse in this instance. Unconscious bias training teaches us to delve beneath the surface of the seemingly superficial choices we make every day and language is a particularly important part of this. I realise now that I chose the word ‘nerd’ due to deep rooted prejudices and preconceptions dating back to the oppressive times of the British Empire…and of course the fact that I am a bit of a dick.
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Nerd immunity is the way forward
Boris’ cunning plan to liberate us
(first published 18/06/21)
We learnt on Monday that lockdown restrictions are being extended for one more month. Like millions of others up and down the country I was shocked and quite deflated by this depressing news. However, having now had time to reflect on the situation I feel certain that there is in fact a very cunning plan behind Boris’ seemingly pointless and cowardly dithering. You may disagree and be of the opinion that if someone looks and sounds like a pathetic, spineless, lying nincompoop then he is indeed a pathetic, spineless, lying nincompoop. It’s a fair point, but please hear me out on this one.
People are still very frightened. They have been queuing up in their thousands to get vaccinated and now eighty percent of the population has had at least one jab. But this still is not enough to make us feel safe, hence the substantial support for vaccine passports and now child vaccination. Face masks are still to be seen everywhere. Not only do we see face masks where they are a legal requirement but also in the high street and in the park. Many people are now wearing them in their cars and on their bicycles. The other day I saw my neighbour wearing one in his back garden. The really worrying thing is that he was in his swimming pool at the time. Recent polls suggest that eighty percent of people are completely behind Covid restrictions and a large majority want them to continue until we are all completely safe from the virus. There is genuine fear amongst people everywhere and there is a very good reason for this: They have all become nerds.
This pandemic of nerdishness has completely beleaguered this once brave nation of ours. We have become a society of hopeless, wretched supernerds. We put on our nerdy masks to go to the pub, where on arrival we check in with our nerdy apps and clean our hands with nerdy hand sanitizer. When inside we greet our friends with a nerdy elbow rub. We take our nerdy mask off to sit down and socialise and then we put it on again to go to the loo. Our level of nerdishness makes Mr. Bean look like James Bond. Many of us who find all of this weird do it anyway because we are too nerdy to realise nothing will happen to us if we refuse. Nerdishness has become ingrained into our psyche and our British way of life.
Mr. Johnson is faced with the impossible task of trying to put an end to all this strange behaviour. He cannot simply say the virus has disappeared, because no-one would believe him. On the other hand it would be political suicide for him to admit that the whole thing was an overreaction in the first place. His only option is to give people the opportunity, one by one to come to that realisation themselves and to develop the confidence to start acting like normal people. In other words we need to develop nerd immunity. Nerd immunity cannot be achieved by the government lifting restrictions; it can only be achieved by them doing the very opposite and pushing our patience and tolerance to its limits. Boris must therefore ensure that we all have continued exposure to never ending, ridiculous coronavirus regulations until we build up a natural resistance to it and stop acting like frightened little nerds.
So how does the human body actually develop nerd immunity? I put this question to Professor Dai Ifyougettit, Head of Immunology at Cardiff University Hospital. The professor recounted the story of Kevin, one of the volunteers in his clinical study group, who has now fully recovered from being a nerd. When this all started back in March 2020, like many people, Kevin thought the pandemic was just as deadly as the Spanish flu of 1918. However, increased exposure to Covid news conferences on the BBC made Kevin start to wonder if things were being exaggerated. As restrictions became more ludicrous and unnecessary Kevin began to start questioning things. The official narrative just didn’t add up and even David Icke began to make a bit more sense than Matt Hancock. “I hadn’t become a Covid denier or a conspiracy theorist as such,” Kevin said, “but I had serious doubts about what the Government was telling us.” Professor Dai Ifyougettit explained how Kevin’s change in perception was the body’s immune system doing its job. To protect him from nerdishness Kevin’s internal defences had forced him to do something that did not come naturally: critical thinking. Some individuals may have major concerns about the adverse side effects of critical thinking and are therefore hesitant. However, if we are to achieve nerd immunity then we will all have to be more open to thinking critically. Just one application of critical thinking would be enough to give someone sixty percent nerd immunity but another one followed a few weeks later would give up to ninety percent. After that, critical thinking boosters might be needed. I asked the professor if a stronger dose of critical thinking would offer complete protection from nerdishness. “No, it is important to get the dose exactly right,” he said. “Too much critical thinking can cause adverse side effects, such as making you even nerdier.”
Many people are asking why the situation is so different in the US at the moment. In particular, states such as Florida and Texas, have already made excellent progress with their levels of nerd immunity. I asked one of the epidemiologists working with the Government advisory body NERDTAG (New and Emerging Really Dorkish Threats Advisory Group). She told me it is likely that progress in some American states has been possible due to pre-existing levels of immunity against nerdishness. On average Americans are a little less nerdy than Brits so they may have had some protection already. She said that the estimated level of nerd immunity in the UK is currently standing at about ten percent but this has to rise to at least fifty percent if we are ever to return to normal.
Clearly we have some way to go and so Boris Johnson is doing exactly the right thing in having us all on for a little longer until the penny drops. If restrictions are simply lifted at this stage we are under serious threat of a third wave of nerdishness. This would be utterly disastrous for both the country and the Government. Mr. Johnson really has no choice but to remain in lockdown and continue his Simple Simon Says routine until all age groups have been given the opportunity and the incentive to think critically about their nerdish compliance.
Of course some people might argue that although this is a clever and pragmatic strategy there is a hefty price to pay for it. UK debt is over two trillion pounds already and it is rising all the time. More financial compensation will be necessary for any continuation of lockdown measures and so we will undoubtedly need to borrow even more money. However, anyone who knows anything about getting into debt will tell you what you need to do when you cannot afford to pay off what you owe. You borrow more. Then you keep borrowing more and more until paying it back is absolutely inconceivable. That is the only way you can get your debt written off.
So we’re in this for the long haul. There are no easy solutions and we are all going to have to grin and bear it. But don’t despair because if we go through enough pain then nerd immunity will be the light at the end of the tunnel.
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We need a futile gesture
A transcription of Boris’ speech with just a few tweaks…
(first published 15/06/21)
Good evening, thanks for joining us.
When we set out on our roadmap to perpetual frustration a few months ago, we were determined not to make any progress for fear that the progress might then have to be reversed. And step by step – thanks to the enormous gullibility of the British people and the unworkable demands we have made on UK businesses we now have one of the most fragile economies and societies in this part of the world.
And as we have always known and as the February roadmap explicitly predicted – these damaging lockdown restrictions have been accompanied by more infection and more hospitalisation. But we must be clear that we cannot simply eliminate lockdown – we must learn to live with it. And with every day that goes by we are more conditioned by the media frenzy and we are better able to live this absurd existence.
Vaccination greatly reduces transmission and two doses provide a very high degree of protection against serious illness and death. But there are still millions of younger adults who were never at risk from the virus and many of whom have probably already had it anyway. We must now wait for these groups to have a tokenistic jab before life can return to normal. And sadly a proportion of the elderly and vulnerable may still succumb even if they have had two jabs because paradoxically this might not provide a very high degree of protection against serious illness and death, despite what I said just a minute ago. This proportion might be either high or low depending on whether we are trying to promote lockdown or vaccination at any given point in time.
And that is why we are so pleased about the Delta variant that is now spreading faster than the third wave predicted in the February roadmap. We’re seeing cases growing by about sixty-four percent per week, and in the worst affected areas, it’s doubling every week. And the average number of people being admitted to hospital in England has increased by fifty percent week on week, and by sixty-one percent in the North West, which may be the shape of things to come. This is very good news indeed, as we are finding it increasingly difficult to justify lockdown by citing numbers of deaths. This remorseless crusade must continue and even if the link between infection and hospitalisation is tenuous we will continue to exploit it. And even if the link between hospitalisation and death is almost non-existent, I’m afraid that I will have to mention it anyway just so I can use the word ‘death’ in a sentence again.
And so we have faced a very difficult choice. We can simply keep going with all of Step Four on June 21st even though there is a real possibility that this would upset members of SAGE, the NHS and millions of hysterical hypochondriacs throughout the UK. Or else we can once again allow the NHS, SAGE and hypochondriacs to dictate government policy. As I have said before on many occasions throughout the last fourteen months, it is just a few more crucial weeks. This time it will be to get those remaining jabs into the arms of those who do not need them. And since today I cannot say that we have met all four vague and indeterminable tests for proceeding with Step Four, I do think it is completely predictable that we will now wait just a little longer.
By Monday 19th July we will aim to have double jabbed around two thirds of the adult population including everyone over fifty, all the vulnerable, all the frontline health and care workers and everyone over forty who received their first dose by mid-May. And to do this we will now accelerate our propaganda campaign and our threats of ostracisation for the non-vaccinated – so they get maximum intimidation as fast as possible.
And we will bring forward our target to give every adult in this country a first dose by 19th July, that is including young people over the age of eighteen, with twenty-three and twenty-four year olds invited to book jabs from tomorrow – so we reduce the risk of transmission among groups that are in no danger from it. And to give the NHS everything they demand we will hold off Step Four openings until July 19th. There will be an exception for weddings that can still go ahead with more than thirty guests provided no-one has any fun, unlike the glorious wedding Carrie and I recently enjoyed at Westminster Cathedral. The same exception will apply to wakes but comforting distressed and grieving relatives at these events is a no-no. And we will continue the pilot events – such as Euro2020 and some theatrical performances. We need to ensure that football fans are not antagonised in any way and we also need to try and keep Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber on our side. We will monitor the position every day and if after two weeks we have not been able to conjure up any more variants we reserve the remote possibility of proceeding to Step Four and full opening sooner.
As things stand – and on the basis of the evidence I can see right now – I am confident we will not need any more than four weeks to come up with our next excuse to go beyond July 19th. It is unmistakably clear the vaccines may or may not be working and the sheer scale of the vaccine roll-out has made our position incomparably better than anything we can compare it to.
But now is the time to ease off the accelerator because to quote a personal hero of mine, “We need a futile gesture at this stage.” By being cautious now we have the chance – in the next four weeks – to get that little bit closer to the inevitable Autumn lockdown. And once the remaining adults of this country have been pointlessly vaccinated, which is what we can achieve in a short space of time, we will be in a far stronger position to make further demands on them, to cast blame on the unvaccinated, to live with lockdown and to complete our cautious but irreversible roadmap to dystopia.
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Farewell to Freddie
You were one in a million
(first published 15/06/21)
It was the End of Year Student Awards evening 2021 at Fulkin Hill Secondary School. A lump formed in the headmaster’s throat as he walked up to the rostrum to present the final award of the evening for a very special student. He had publicised the event to the mainstream media and was pleased as punch when the BBC emailed him to inform him that they were sending a reporter down to cover the event. This would be his proudest moment. He adjusted the microphone and began to address the audience.
“We are honoured to have Mr. and Mrs. Righteous here with us this evening to receive the posthumous ‘Bravery at School’ award on behalf of their son Freddie. Please come and join me Mr. and Mrs. Righteous.
It is often the case in times of national crisis that the fine young people of this country turn out to be the heroes of the day and the Covid pandemic has been a wonderful example of this. We offer our heartfelt thanks to the millions of vaccinated children all around the country for courageously stepping forward and doing their bit. In particular, we want to thank Freddie, who sadly cannot be with us tonight. Of course it is not only Freddie whom we should thank but also our excellent teachers at Fulkin Hill who persuaded him to take the vaccination via the ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ learning resources. These resources are an invaluable aid in educating children and parents who may be vaccine hesitant. They dispel many widespread myths about the Covid vaccine, like the absurd claim that the vaccines might be dangerous in some way. Here at Fulkin Hill we have no time for that sort of negativity. Thank goodness parents like Mr. and Mrs. Righteous had a more informed and positive attitude when they proactively helped Freddie through the ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ learning resources and then went on to volunteer at many of our ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ parents evenings. Indeed Mr. and Mrs. Righteous were first in the queue to get all three of their boys vaccinated. They informed me earlier this evening that their other two children also suffered adverse reactions to the vaccine but thankfully they have not been anywhere near as severe as Freddie’s. Indeed we hope to see Bertie and Sammy Righteous back in school very soon once their prosthetic limbs have arrived. We will be holding a ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ Fun Day to celebrate their return, to which all parents…erm I mean all vaccinated parents will be invited.
It is of course very sad that Freddie is no longer with us but I am sure he is in a better place now. Freddie was always a generous natured boy and he is probably looking down at an obese man in his fifties, as we speak, feeling proud that he might possibly have helped to save his life. Or perhaps Freddie’s spirit is smiling sweetly at an eighty-five year old woman in a care home with the hope that his personal sacrifice might allow her to enjoy one last Christmas. Who knows – maybe this year she might even be able to see her grandchildren. Indeed the sad loss of Freddie makes us more determined to continue with our amazing child vaccination programme until every child in the school has had the jab. Recent statistics show that the chance of a child dying from the jab is only about one in a million, so now Freddie has died it is very unlikely that we will have another death from the vaccine in this school…touch wood.
We should view the extraordinary achievements of the child vaccination programme and the ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ campaign as Freddie’s legacy, as its success would not have been possible without him and others like him. To give you some idea of the extent of that success it is worth pointing out that in the weeks prior to child vaccination there was an average of seven people a day dying from Covid in the UK. Now over six million children have had at least one jab and the average is still seven Covid deaths a day. This is a remarkable accomplishment considering that computer modellers at Imperial College predicted the number would double by this date. I would like you to join me in a round of applause to celebrate this wonderful success story…
After the award ceremony, please do visit the school courtyard, where last week our local MP, the Right Honourable Ivor Lottasharesin-Pfizer, unveiled a giant statue in Freddie’s honour. It is a beautiful sculpture of Freddie created by his fellow year 9 art students and it is made entirely out of household recycling rubbish. The Righteous family are avid eco warriors and so the recycling theme of the sculpture was a particularly fitting tribute. Especially touching is the depiction of the syringe in Freddie’s arm, created out of an old washing up liquid bottle and a meat skewer. Mr. Lottasharesin-Pfizer made a moving and inspirational speech in which he honoured Freddie and the five other UK children who have sadly lost their lives from the vaccine. He said it’s a terrible shame that recently there has been some negative reporting of the ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ campaign and that we should not focus on the tiny number of tragic events. Rather we should remember that every single one of those little pr!cks helps us to protect the NHS and Build Back Better. Wise words indeed Mr. Lottasharesin-Pfizer. So tonight let’s consider the wonderful contribution Freddie has made to society by playing his part in the ‘Just a Little Pr!ck’ campaign.
Please now stand with me for a minute’s silence in memory of Freddie Righteous.”
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Anarchy in the history lesson
Spring term 2121: Key Stage 3 – How we saved the NHS
(first published 04/06/21)
“Hurry up children! Stop all the chitter-chatter and sit down at your desks. We have a very exciting history lesson today,” said Sir.
“What are we learning, Sir?”asked Julia, as she grabbed her exercise book and pen to start taking notes. Julia was a keen student with an enquiring mind, though her over-confidence did tend to make Sir a little nervous.
“We’re learning about how we saved the NHS after the Great Covid Plague of 2020.”
“Wow, my mum told me about that,” said Julia. “She said both her grandparents survived it!”
“Yes, some people were lucky enough to survive it, Julia,” said Sir.
“How many children died, Sir?” asked Dominic, fiddling with his calculator. “I bet it was in the thousands wasn’t it?” Dominic was a gloomy sort of child who had an obsession with numbers and data.
“No, not that many,” replied Sir. “It mainly affected the old and the obese. But there were so many old and obese people in the UK at the time that they had to shut down the entire country, to stop the spread.”
“That’s ridiculous!” A rather sceptical boy named Toby responded, frowning in disbelief. “Why didn’t they just tell the old and the obese to stay at home?”
“Don’t be so impertinent, boy!” Sir said. “We learnt about fascism last week, so you should know the answer to that question.”
Sir hated teaching class 9B. There were so many smart alecs all in the same class but there was one particular boy who made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sir kept one eye on the boy, who was sitting quietly at the back of the class taking it all in but somehow looking slightly menacing. He was hoping that he would stay schtum for the time being. The boy had a know-all way about him and an aloof, deadpan delivery that would drive the history teacher insane with anger and frustration. He hated him so much he could not even bear to address him by his first name. The boy fixed his stare at the teacher, poised to have his first dig at the man he considered to be just another of his intellectual inferiors.
“What on earth has fascism got to do with it? It’s not fascist to give people advice. They could have just warned them of the dangers and given them the choice. That’s liberalism not fascism.”
Sir was getting hot under the collar. He knew this was a tricky subject and that 9B would give him a hard time over it; so much so that he had been up all night preparing for the lesson. The correct response to the boy’s suggestion was on the tip of his tongue, but he was getting so flustered he couldn’t seem to recall it.
“STOP TRYING TO BE SUCH A CLEVER DICK, HITCHENS!” Sir hollered at the top of his voice. “You’re only thirteen, so don’t act like you know everything.”
He was playing for time. He furtively glanced down at his notes to try and find the answer…“Ah yes…the reason they could not make the stay at home order advisory, was that people might not take any notice and then the NHS would get overwhelmed,” said Sir, naively believing he had managed to draw a line under it.
“Why didn’t they just open more hospitals?” asked Brendan, a suave and quick witted boy, whose manner was less corrosive than some of Sir’s other adversaries but whose intent was no more benign.
“They did,” answered Sir. “But then they had to close them all down again when they realised they didn’t have any staff for them.”
“Our ancestors weren’t very clever were they?” Julia said, incredulously. “Couldn’t they have asked retired medics to go back to work?”
“No, that would have been impossible, as none of them had had the necessary equality and diversity training,” said Sir. “Now please stop interrupting me and just settle down and listen. It’s all very straightforward if you’ll let me explain and then you can ask questions when I’ve finished.”
Sir nervously glanced down at his notes again. “Now these days, we’re all very aware of how dangerous germs and viruses are, which is why we wear these face coverings all the time.”
“Oh, is that why we wear face masks?” asked Boris, the classroom clown. “I thought it was to stop us swallowing wasps.”
“My mum told me it was to stop us eating so many sweets,” a rotund boy butted in.
“You are all wrong,” said an Asian girl sitting in the front row. “We cover our faces to maintain modesty and show our love for the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him.”
“For heaven’s sake, stop making all these inane comments and let me continue…and put those colouring pencils away Bob, this is History not an Art…So back in the early 21st century, getting colds and influenza was just accepted as part of life and nobody made any attempt to stop the spread of these illnesses, aside from putting their hands over their mouths when they coughed. This all changed with Covid because it had an unusually high death rate, which scientists of the time were able to calculate with incredible accuracy as being somewhere between 6 percent and 0.2 percent. Not only was the death rate so high but the virus was also extremely contagious and therefore much more of a threat than regular viruses. They knew this thanks to a brilliant discovery called PCR testing. The PCR tests were so ultra-sensitive that they could detect minute traces of the virus even when they weren’t actually there. With the aid of computer modelling, scientists were then able to extrapolate the figures and calculate with extreme precision what proportion of the population had contracted the virus, which they found to be somewhere between 5 percent and 60 percent. The scientists also knew precisely what percentage of the population would need to catch the virus to achieve herd immunity (between 30 percent and 100 percent) and it was predicted that there was an imminent danger of this happening. Therefore to avoid this disastrously unpopular and terrifying prospect there was no alternative but to lock everyone up in their homes. This worked extremely well. Not only was herd immunity avoided but the lockdown measures combined with the suspension of all cancer and heart disease treatment meant that our ancestors managed to prevent the NHS from being overwhelmed. Sadly there were still many more people dying than usual but it was okay because a large number of them were dying at home, thus taking the pressure off the hospitals. Everyone was so happy about this that they stood outside their houses every Thursday night and clapped. NHS doctors and nurses were the happiest of all and many of them made dance videos, which they shared online to celebrate their success. With the number of Covid deaths eventually falling to almost zero, lockdown was eased over the summer but by the winter of 2020 the over 80s and the obese started to get really sick again. No-one knew for sure whether it was the easing of lockdown or the cold weather that was causing this, so the country locked down again for a few weeks just to be on the safe side.”
Sir paused for breath. At this point in the narrative he was a little hazy about the details and found it very difficult to memorise the various changes in lockdown restrictions, but he had made himself a handy list of bullet points in his notes. He rummaged around on his desk for the right page.
“Let’s see now…oh yes, then they locked down for a few more weeks…erm and then they banned golf, then they tried locking down different parts of the country at different times and then…erm then singing was banned, then they locked the whole country down again, then they banned fishing and sitting on park benches and erm…then…erm…scotch eggs…yes, there was something about eating scotch eggs in pubs but I can’t remember if it was banned or encouraged, then they eased the restrictions again for Christmas, then they changed their minds again and banned Christmas (with the exception of certain families who met certain criteria and on the condition that everyone kept their windows open and didn’t hug) and then they locked down again for the New Year.”
Dominic was getting so bored with Sir’s monotonous tone, burbling out this ridiculous twaddle that he started to get itchy feet. Dominic was a studious boy and usually well behaved but he had a very active mind and sometimes found it difficult to pay attention to teachers when they were being particularly tedious. He was feeling so restless that he could not bear it any longer. It was excruciating. He got out of his chair and started wandering over to the window.
“Dominic! Sit down this instant! What on earth do you think you are doing?”
Dominic went red in the face and was quite panic stricken. He really didn’t want to get into trouble with Sir, as he had a strong ambition to become the form prefect. None of the other boys and girls liked him and so he always made every effort to ingratiate himself with the teachers, especially the history teacher, who normally had a bit of a soft spot for Dominic.
“Erm…I’m sorry Sir…I was erm…just testing my eyesight,” Dominic blurted out. Everyone laughed. It was the most absurd excuse ever, yet it seemed to confuse Sir and put him off the scent.
“Well…okay, just get back to your desk and shut up!” Sir snapped.
“Now where was I? Oh yes, in the New Year of 2021 the vaccines arrived. The vaccines turned out to be hugely successful (apart from the odd thousand or so people who got blood clots and died) and by the spring of 2021 hardly anyone was dying of Covid. However, there were lots of mutant variants emerging from all around the world and these started to cause concern, as it was uncertain whether the vaccine would offer enough protection. By late 2021 almost the whole country had been vaccinated, including adults, children, babies, cats, dogs and guinea pigs but once again the over 80s and the obese started to become ill, so the only solution was to go back into lockdown again. Since then we have enjoyed perpetually going in and out of lockdown, which not only has enabled the NHS to continue for another hundred years but has also given us the value added benefits we enjoy today, such as less pollution, more time on the internet and our shoes not wearing out so fast.”
There were a few moments of silence, as 9B attempted to digest the drivel that Sir had been uttering for the last twenty minutes. Dominic now saw his chance. It was an open goal. He put up his hand.
“Yes Dominic.”
“I just wanted to say thank you, Sir, for that brilliant and inspiring explanation of how the country got through the Great Covid Plague and saved the NHS. I’ve always thought how lucky we are to be in and out of lockdown whenever there is pressure on the NHS and how terrible things must have been in the days before lockdowns. It baffles me that there are still people around who think lockdowns are not a good idea. I only wish we could have started this term three weeks earlier, so that we could have heard some more of your lectures about Covid-19 and lockdowns.”
A voice came from the right hand side of the class, “Arse licker!”
“Who said that?” Sir asked furiously.
The children were expert at playing this game. To avoid recognition they disguised their voices and kept their profanities to a bare minimum. With their mouths covered by the masks the teacher had no idea who the hecklers were.
“Dominic is a wanker!” from the left hand side of the class this time.
“Turtle-headed prick!” this time it seemed to be a girl trying to sound like a boy.
“Was that you Julia?”
“No Sir!”
It was all too much for Sir. He snapped.
“Right take your masks off everyone now!”
Piers, a fat boy with a surly and petulant disposition, scowled at Sir.
“Are you completely insane? We’ll all die if we do that!” he snarled angrily.
“Don’t argue with me. Just take your mask off!”
“I’ve had enough of this!” Piers sneered, as he stormed out of the classroom in a huff.
“Masks off, everyone!”
“I don’t wear one anyway,” scoffed Hitchens in a superior manner. No-one ever dared to ask Hitchens why he didn’t wear one (not even the teachers) – they all just pretended not to notice.
“Help! Help! He’s going to kill us all!” cried out Neil, the bespectacled mathematical genius of the class. He waved his arms around frantically in complete panic. Everyone was jumping around hysterically, some pinging their masks into the air and trying to hook them onto the overhead strip-lights, some trying to pull off the masks of their classmates and others clinging onto their own masks in defiance and terror.
The headmaster heard the commotion from outside in the corridor and he walked slowly and purposefully into the classroom. He glared sternly at the pupils. Instantly everyone sat behind their desks in complete silence. You could have heard a pin drop.
“Thank you, Mr. Schwab,” said Sir.
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Thanks kids – you’ve been amazing!
But we still need your help…
(first published 29/05/21)
In the Commons this week, Jeremy Hunt hinted that it was time to start thinking about a mass Covid vaccination programme for school children. Thank heavens someone was brave enough to stand up and make this crucial suggestion. I know… “blood clots, blood clots!” all the snowflakes are hysterically screaming out. Snap out of it! Children are tough little cookies and they’ll be able to take the odd thromboembolic event here and there. They have proved how resilient they are by the fact that they’ve been completely unaffected by the virus itself, so vaccinating them against it is really the obvious thing to do now. This is a wonderful opportunity for our children to step forward and do their bit to protect the over 80s and the obese. They have already made us proud by sacrificing their schooling and mental health and I’m sure they will now be very happy to go the extra mile to be on the receiving end of a harmless bit of jib-jabbing.
Indeed our children are wholeheartedly embracing the new normal and valiantly aiding us in our fight against Covid-19. But once they are all vaccinated, we then need to start thinking beyond Covid. As we become more health and safety conscious we need to ensure our children are proactively involved in helping us to develop a risk free society. For instance, they could play a vital role in tackling another invisible but lesser known threat: Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Blocked chimneys or flues allow carbon monoxide to seep into your home and badly affect your health – or even kill you! The NHS website explains:
After carbon monoxide is breathed in, it enters your bloodstream and mixes with haemoglobin (the part of red blood cells that carry oxygen around your body) to form carboxyhaemoglobin. When this happens, the blood is no longer able to carry oxygen, and this lack of oxygen causes the body’s cells and tissue to fail and die.
Last year there were 62 deaths from carbon monoxide poisoning in England and Wales, which was a rise of 10% on the previous year. If the current downward trend of Covid cases continues then carbon monoxide poisoning will soon overtake it as the number one health risk. It’s looking increasingly likely that carbon monoxide poisoning will be the next curve we need to flatten once we have beaten Covid. Of course, all the monoxidiots will try to play this down and scornfully declare that sixty-something deaths a year is nothing to panic about. But carbon monoxide poisoning is a dreadful, debilitating malady that affects your breathing, your heart and your nervous system. Could you look into the eyes of someone suffering from this condition and tell them that you’d done all you could to help them keep their chimney clean? Even one death from this terrible illness is one too many.
So how can our children help?
One reason for the recent surge in cases is that, as energy companies are hiking up their prices, more households are going back to burning coal or wood. Moreover, to make further savings many property owners are not getting their chimneys cleaned the recommended minimum of once a year. Even when they do, some chimneys from old Victorian buildings can be quite narrow and difficult for the chimney sweeps to negotiate. This is where our children can be an invaluable asset. Not only will they be able to work more efficiently by getting up into all the little nooks and crannies (particularly the six to ten year olds) but also they will be able to work at a fraction of the price of a professional chimney sweep. It’s common knowledge that the practice of child chimney sweeps started after the Great Fire of London in 1666 and it continued until 1834, which is almost 200 years. The fact that it lasted so long can mean one thing only: It was a very good idea.
Our children are our future and so we need to invest in them. Developing new skills and contributing to a healthy society would be greatly rewarding for the younger generation. As their academic studies have regrettably been set back so much by the pandemic we should start looking at alternatives like apprenticeships and vocational training so that together we can build back better. What better way to give children a sense of community whilst at the same time teaching them new skills that could set them up for life?
The pandemic has been a devastating blow for us all and yet there have been so many positives arising from it. Rethinking children’s place in society and what they can do for the greater good is one example. Have children complained at all about being isolated, not seeing their friends, sacrificing their education, having to wear masks all day or having experimental substances injected into their veins? No, they have felt empowered by being allowed to play their part in this struggle. Now let’s empower them even more by sending them up the chimneys.
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Not getting jabbed is as bad as drink driving.
Actually, it’s a bit worse…
(first published 20/05/21)
Andrew Lloyd Webber recently offended a large number of people in the UK by claiming that refusing the Covid jab was as bad as drink driving. Well actually not many of us were offended because we refuseniks are very calm, peaceful types and we appreciate Mr. Lloyd Webber is probably somewhat bitter and twisted at the moment. Watching his empire, which he took a lifetime to build, slip down the pan in one year cannot be easy. Yes, we may be a little bit rattled by his mean spirited comments but these days no-one gets hysterical about things – we just follow the science. So that’s what I did. I did my own little bit of data analysis and empirical research to see if the old fart had a point or not.
To measure the level of threat a refusenik like me poses to his fellow citizens I started by going to the good old BBC website to see how many Covid cases there have been in my area in the last two weeks, which happened to be a stonking 48! For the sake of argument I’ll assume that none of the 48 had been vaccinated and so their chance of dying from the virus was 0.5%. From this we can estimate that nearly a quarter of a person died (0.5% of 48 = one quarter). Or does it mean that one person is now a quarter dead? Well either way I’m fully prepared to take responsibility for it. The generous natured amongst you would say it could have been any of the other 129,000 unvaccinated individuals in my local borough who breathed out their foul air over this innocent quarter of a person. You might also argue that at least some of the blame should fall on the shoulders of our fraction man himself, if indeed he had been offered the jab and turned it down. But let’s not quibble. I’m collectively to blame and I’m fully prepared to take the accusation on the chin. I’ll hold my hands up and say it’s a fair cop – it was my fault.
So that was the boring bit of my research done, now it was time for the more interesting bit.
I have never partaken in drink driving previously. Before the new normal I suppose I was quite a conformist. Aside from not wishing to endanger myself or others, I come from a good family and the shame of getting caught drink driving would be too much for me to bear. But these were exceptional circumstances and I now had some very important statistical research to do. Just like Dominic Cummings was acting responsibly when he drove to Barnard Castle to test his eyesight, I knew I had to get fully tanked up and get behind the wheel to ascertain just how dangerous my drink driving was in comparison to not getting vaccinated. It was the right thing to do…
So after six pint bottles of London Pride and four whiskey macs I was ready to go. If only I’d remembered to back the car out of the garage first. Never mind, scientific research rarely goes smoothly. Forty-five minutes and a burnt out clutch later I was on the road. I felt a bit wobbly at first but I soon got the feel of it. The headlights of the other cars seemed to be zipping and fluttering around like I was on level four of an asteroids video game. But I found that if I put my foot down and drove like a lunatic they were much less distracting. This was great! I was flyin’! I was rockin’! Nothing to it really – I should have tried it years ago. I was doing sixty in a thirty zone when I saw the traffic lights in front of me change from green to red. I was only a few hundred yards away – it was a doddle. I put my foot down…one second…two seconds…three seconds….oops there are cars going the other way now, maybe I should stop after all. I slammed on the brakes and screeched to a halt just a few yards over the stop line. The man in the car next to me wound his window down and yelled the ‘C’ word at me. I patiently explained to him that I was doing some important statistical research for Andrew Lloyd Webber.
I was on the open road now. I wound all the windows down and put my favourite karaoke CD on the stereo at full volume. I always love a good sing-along when I’m pissed out of my brain but at ninety miles an hour it’s twice as much fun! And it was my favouritist song in the whole world ever! I’d never been so happy. My glorious baritone voice was in full swing, “Don’t cry for me Argentinaaaaagh…..”
All good things come to an end though. I started to feel very, very sick. Time to go home. If only I could work out where the hell I was. I pulled into a lay-by and fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning feeling a little groggy but still very eager to drive home and write up my report. It was kind of humiliating to admit that Sir Andrew was right all along but it was also very good news that I had not killed or injured anyone at all (at least I don’t think I did). So there you have it – a valuable contribution to the raft of scientific studies that have been carried out over this past year. My conclusive evidence shows that not getting vaccinated kills 25% of a person whereas drink driving doesn’t kill anyone. Surprisingly, not getting the jab is indeed as bad, if not worse than drink driving. It takes a big man to admit he is wrong but I realise now that I need to change my view about the whole issue and act accordingly. So from now on I intend to drink drive with a completely clear conscience. Thank you for your formidable wisdom Mr. Lloyd Webber.
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Let’s Lockdown Again
Lyrics to a song applauding the merits of lockdown
(first published 19/05/21)
Thank you Mr. Johnson, for locking us all down
I’m sure it’s gonna work – eventually
If at first you don’t succeed then try and try again
Let’s keep locking down until we’re virus free
We hid away for one whole year and now we have a jab
So good riddance Covid, we have beaten you!
Now all we have to worry about is pesky mutant strains and
TB, bronchitis, pneumonia and flu.
So let’s lockdown again
Let’s flatten that curve
Please don’t lose your nerve
Let’s lockdown again
Let’s lockdown again
The pubs and clubs are all closed down, the theatres have no shows
Nothing left but grim ghost towns from shore to shore
But still we keep on smiling, underneath our snotty masks
Thanks to Boris we might live to ninety-four
We saved the NHS, now let’s save the planet too
We’re so eco friendly when we’re stuck indoors
No petrol, diesel, kerosene, no consumerism now
All thanks to our new coronavirus laws
So let’s lockdown again
Let’s flatten that curve
Please don’t lose your nerve
Let’s lockdown again
Let’s lockdown again
Let’s hope we keep on getting paid to sit around all day
I’m addicted to canned beer and Sky T.V.
I may be suicidal, but it’s all in a good cause
Let’s all shout out for Rishi’s money tree
Our children will be proud of us – how we save the human race
Even though their futures look a little bleak
But at least they’ll grow up knowing it’s a dangerous world out there
Let’s teach them all this game of hide and seek
So let’s lockdown again
Let’s flatten that curve
Please don’t lose your nerve
Let’s lockdown again
Let’s lockdown again
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Watch out it’s the Indian Double Mutant!
Some helpful advice to stay safe.
(first published 19/05/21)
Just when you thought it was safe to buy your weekly groceries from the supermarket the evil Covid monstrosity is back in town. But this time it has transformed itself into the even scarier INDIAN DOUBLE MUTANT! Terrified? Well you should be! We all know the drill though: Masks on, follow the arrows, stand in the circles, head down, no talking…just get your arse back home before that vile mutant from hell turns your body into a quivering wreck to die a slow death on a ventilator.
No, you naive fool it makes no difference that you’re vaccinated. What do you think you’re messing with here? Have you not seen those scenes from the Indian hospitals? Yes, I know they told you the vaccine was our way out of this…but…erm…well they didn’t know the virus was going to mutate did they? Well yes, I know all viruses mutate but not like this! I mean have you seen this son-of-a-bitch under the microscope yet? No? Well take my word for it then. IT’S HORRIBLE! Just the spike alone will have you on the ropes gasping for breath before you can say “Protect the NHS!”
Just stay indoors until the government says it’s safe to come out again. All we have to do is wait and the virus will go away by itself. For heaven’s sake just follow the science – that’s all you have to do. It’s obvious really isn’t it? It’s an Indian variant so it’s not going to want to stay in the UK forever, especially when the weather turns nasty. It will just migrate back to its country of origin like the geese do every year. As long as we all keep away from it then it will soon get bored and go back home. Okay you can’t stay at home if you drive a bus, or work in a hospital, or collect rubbish, or do pretty much any other working class job. And we can’t keep the kids away from school any longer…but everyone else can stay at home. In other words office workers and old age pensioners can stay at home…apart from when they go out to get their shopping…or when they have to go to the hospital…or when they have to stand on their doorsteps clapping like mad penguins. So clearly the pesky mutant strain stands no chance at all when it’s up against such a robust and ingenious plan from our churchillian leaders. We’ll definitely be back to normal by this time next year…oh I forgot – this is normal now isn’t it?