I
slept the sleep of the dead after my exertions yesterday. Though thinking about it, that metaphor could
have been better chosen. In fact, it is
a wonder I ever get to sleep given my insatiable appetite for the depressingly
predictable latest escapades of Orangeblond a portmanteau word I will now use
to refer to the sad populist narcissistic twins of the USA and UK, as they vie
with each other to show which one cares less about the population they pretend
to ‘serve’.
Try as I might, I cannot wean myself from
the heady narcotic cocktail of BBC news and The Guardian, with a dash of
Spanish and Catalan televisualisation to add an exotic spice to my neurosis. Though, thinking about it, wouldn’t an absence
of neurosis in these times argue a disassociation from what is actually going
on that would be a compelling basis for a text book definition of mental
illness?
No one in Britain (including [especially?]
the government) appears to have the slightest idea about what has been
““decided”” – and the double inverted commas there appear to be far too subtle
to give a clear idea of the tenuous nature of the word as it is applied to
government policy.
Yesterday/today/tomorrow
is when the population should/should not go to work by foot/bike/Star trek beam if possible and not by public transport
unless you have to . .
. and one could go on, but this
government defies irony and sarcasm.
600 deaths today, three thousand new cases
– how is this a situation in which it is sensible to ease the lockdown. The testing target was missed AGAIN yesterday
– and without adequate testing, anything that the government says is
nugatory. So no surprise there then!
My
bike ride this morning was fairly early, but there were many people around,
with bikes outnumbering cars and the same thing on my bike ride in the
evening. The evening ride should be
Plague Kid Free as their time to roam around ends at 7pm – except of course for
those parents who don’t want to stick by the rules. There were over twenty Plague Kids joining
the adults on the paseo; and yes, I counted, just as I counted the number of
cyclists who had lights on when I made my way back from the far end of Castelldefels
(23 out of 127, if you are interested) and thought to myself, if people are not
prepared to do something as simple as switching lights on in the darkness, what
hope do we have for something more sophisticated and difficult when connected
to the requirements for a successful lockdown?
Not good!
