We shall fight them in the airing cupboard, under the stairs, and in that weird alcove that used to house a mangle…
That should get around the censorship…. Doh!
Welcome to the medical police state.
This evening Boris Johnson appeared on the news-screen to inform the nation that a note had been delivered to Papa Nurgle’s ambassador, informing her that unless she undertook to stop spreading the zombie plague… something… something…. something…. no such assurance was received, and that consequently ‘Our’ NHS is at war with the virus (which cannot be named for reasons of censorship)….
You are free to die of ‘it’… just don’t talk about ‘it’…. it will spoil the heroic narrative being rolled out worldwide….
Being a patriotic humble satyr, my boots were half laced, to get down the recruiting office, in answer Matt Hancock’s call for volunteers: when it became apparent that my efforts were needed on the home front. For all loyal Briton’s are required, after donning their emergency hazmat John Bull costume, to entrench themselves within their place of residence and remain one barge pole length from all other persons for three weeks.
There was something about it all being over by Christmas… or maybe there wasn’t… because it was difficult to hear what Mr Johnson was saying, for at that moment Vera Lynn was singing the White Cliffs of Dover on the gramophone, the missus was busy nailing carbolic soaked blankets to the window frames and I was trying to clean red enamel paint from my naked body after my disastrous bath….
As people will no longer be able to congregate in groups of more than two (excluding one’s immediate household). Playgrounds are to be closed, though parks will remain open for the purpose of exercise. People will be allowed to go shopping for food and medicine. Oh, and the police will have the power to fine people caught outside without a good reason.
And just like that, we have entered the world of the Green New Deal. And no doubt there will soon be deer roaming the streets, and every Green addled nutcase will be saying how lovely it is, as foxes run riot mugging moped delivery riders depriving some old biddy of their Woolton kebab.
Of course there are those who object, claiming that this is the end of civilization as we knew it. And, it probably is.
But in the meantime it is probably best to enjoy the war because the peace will be worse…. (an odd year 1992)….
btw… can we stop with the nonsense of saying ‘our’ NHS… everyone knows that since Brown and Blair sold it off, via PFI, the government has very little control of what it does or how it runs.