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Muddled Messages

As the UK government’s lockdown edicts ease, I grow every more confused at exactly what us Brits can undertake without risk of censure. Muddled messages from on high flummoxing me more than at anytime since, apart from key workers, the populace’s quarantining back in March.

Footnote – When I say muddled messages from on high I’m not referring to governmental advocacies, or even those from god (who is probably as befuddled as I). I’m talking about the lockdown understandings of my mum, who shouts them to me from the top of the stairs!

Without intended hubris, I’d like to think I possess a mental capacity level to compute simple instructions. Once attaining that knowledge, then perfectly prepared to acquiesce to any well intentioned guidelines devised to safeguard my wellbeing, along with other protagonists.

As an example of how bewildering the lockdown recommendations can be, I believe the UK government has advocated that from 4th July we (the English public) will be allowed to reduce social distancing from two to one metre.

I’m unsure what the catalyst at midnight on the 3rd July will allow this sea change in COVID-19 risk parameters, but I hope they bring donuts……. Seriously, though, what is it about from today’s conditions compared to the dawning of the 4th July that negates us utilising this metre guideline now?

Has coronavirus’s advocate, beelzebub himself, made a pact with our government that it’ll be less infectious by one metre from that day; a show of diablo’s good faith on US Independence Day. After all we’re Americans 51st state by proxy……. Or so I’m led to believe by more politically left wing buddies.

I can picture the scene now. The deal between the devil and the UK government thrashed out, like a 1970’s union and employers meeting, over sandwiches and beer, facilitated by arbitration company ACAS.

A contract rubber-stamping that, from 4th July 2020, coronavirus pledges to become less contagious by one metre in distance. This concession providing governmental assurances in return it receives longer tea breaks, along with introduction of demarcation boundaries to negate Tory Party members penchant of undertaking beelzebub’s work.

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To be honest, I’ve no idea why I’m worrying about social distancing. After all, as footage of prevailing crowd gatherings in England attest, I reckon a second spike in COVID cases is just over the horizon.

The compliance to social distancing edicts severely fractured by the springtime behaviour of a senior advisor to the prime minister, undertaking actions contrary to those the populace was asked to follow.

If truth be told, the aforementioned act didn’t initially bother me. However, like many of others who’d followed the lockdown edicts, I became irked at his arrogant refusal to apologise for any of his actions.

Not to mention staggered at his utterly implausible ‘piss take’ excuse of driving 30 minute journey to check his eyesight was performant enough to drive…… Absolute grade-A horse s**t, but this Lambton worm apparently wasn’t for turning, and do the right thing.

Since these unrepentant actions, making mugs of the UK people, it’s seemed that the attitude of bollocks to the rules has prevailed in many residences up and down the land. Not a strategy I endorse, but one that I can understand why is taken by the less acquiescent of our number.

What’s that my mum’s shouting from the top of the stairs?….. Ah, mater’s just relayed another of the lockdown concessions on 4th July. That being her eldest child can apparently “Bugger off out with that bleeding laptop!…..  I’m bloody sick of you being under my feet all the time!”

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