I’m beginning to wander if this frequent hand washing malarky, a necessity in this stark COVID-19 era, is starting to erode away my fingerprints. I raise the topic as within the past week I’ve observed my devices with fingerprint recognition technology seem only to sporadically respond to my dab.
My paranoia manifesting notions the access interruption maybe an unyielding coronavirus strategy by proxy. One whose agenda is to further mess with mindsets globally. The virus laughing from behind position stealth as those device owners, even if they haven’t been afflicted by its putrid spores, rage at having to once again recollect passwords to gain electronic gadget access.
COVID-19 cruelly introducing online connectivity denial, or at the very least inconvenience at resetting forgotten passwords, to a populace many of whom opine they mustn’t be inconvenienced. Not content with its evil life threatening agenda, the pathogen also contributing towards lifestyle disruption by proxy.
Off course, I’m pretty sure you can’t wash away your fingerprints, no matter how vigorous or often the act of scrubbing occurs. I don’t make that statement, though, from an informed position. Despite once writing the white paper ‘Science Is The Dog’s Bollocks’, which incorporated loads of paradoxical medical advice, I’m no scientist.
These knowledge voids in the fields of biology, chemistry and physics would’ve been immediately apparent on reading the piece. My tongue-in-cheek advocacies including advice to felons at avoidance of leaving fingerprints at the scene of the crime by disposing of finger/thumb tips with angle grinder prior to entering target of their villainy.
Footnote – In my defence, I did reconcile this intentional idiocy by including a more sensible addendum. Affording significantly less blood loss, this more sensible advocation simply a less foolhardy approach of wearing gloves at the scene of crime.
After much mulling I’ve concluded, following root cause analysis into my sporadic fingerprint recognition issues, the source of device access intermittency is damage to finger tips after a week of working in the garden.
Yours truly currently perches at domain dining room table while penning these observations, As GJ Strachan shamelessly imparts this silliness, my mother is spring cleaning. Her sanitising of chez Strachan’s chambers has thus far solely involved the task of dusting a few ornaments, before being moved to perch her backside in an armchair to watch ‘Homes Under The Hammer’ on TV.
To be honest, I shouldn’t mock the thus far inept cleaning processes employed by mater; after all, the familial matriarch has always kept a clean home. On the very few occasions she hasn’t (during our later childhood) she’s made my siblings and me undertaken the flaming task!
Only kidding the old lady doesn’t have a lazy bone in her body, unless of course ‘Homes Under The Hammer’ is being broadcast, under which circumstances all bets are off!
As an aside, in the light of COVID-19 shenanigans, I intend to email the editorial team of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) with suggestions for new additions for their next edition update, in June 2020.
For the uninitiated, on a quarterly basis the OED add any new material to the dictionary, including revised versions of existing entries, along with new words within the alphabetical sequence of revised entries and also across the whole A to Z range.
My suggestions for addition to this fabled lexicological tome are as follows:-
Fuckwittery – A behavioural trait of someone who blatantly ignores advocacies of erudite and more informed authorities whose sole aim is to maintain their safety.
Fuckhoardery – Selfishly bulk buying products during a crisis, particularly items that aren’t necessarily required in large numbers.
Fuckjournalry – A behavioural trait of a journalist, who repeats questions already answered in a news conference/briefing. Also, describes correspondents who ask ill-thought out, lame inquires purely be seen by their editors to have indulged with question input.
Stay safe everyone!!
2 kids who've flown the nest, 1 wife whose flown with Jet2. Born at a young age in 1960's Leeds, the author became interested in the literary life when his wife bought him a dog. Having an allergy to dogs, he swapped it for a typewriter. Being unable to train the typewriter to retrieve tennis balls, he reluctantly turned to writing...... Website - www.writesaidfred.org