The Lockdown, Part Four

 

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Just like that it seemed that it was over.

People flocked to beaches and beauty spots, drank, danced and defecated under the shadow of over a hundred new deaths and a thousand new cases a day. The police were called to break up raves and street parties, sparking violence inevitable after months of fear and frustration while the blame was clearly directed at a feckless and disobedient public.

In truth the scene had been set some weeks earlier when prime ministerial adviser Dominic Cummings broke the lockdown rules, first to travel to his family home in County Durham and again with the ill-fated “eye-test” trip to Barnard Castle. Follow that with a laissez-faire PM relaxing the rules in such a complex way that even the most diligent commentators struggled with them and casually dismissing the daily press briefing as no longer required inevitably led to the public sense that the rules no longer either applied or mattered.

The two metre rule became one metre plus and you were deemed safe to be within virtual touching distance of another person so long as you took one of thirty-nine mitigating steps, one of which was to wash your hands more frequently. Barring gyms, swimming pools, beauty treatments and tattoo parlours, workplaces could re-open so long as they followed the governments occasionally specific, often vague “COVID Secure” advice. The pub trade was in chaos, publicans divided between those with open space for their customers and those without, those with apps and table service and those struggling for solutions, and those relieved of the burden of their rent by their brewery and those with their livelihood held to ransom by a pubco.

The rules had been downgraded to guidance.

Belligerent libertarians, although it’s doubtful that they would have described themselves as such, rang radio phone-ins demanding to know what had become of the second wave of infections predicted after the VE Day celebrations as their hosts lambasted the teaching unions and demanded a return to school for all.

It wasn’t yet the 4th of July when the news of a second spike and a city-wide continuation of the lockdown in Leicester reached us.

Trust

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Dominic to take a knee
Or any of the three with PPE

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Jacob not to take a nap
Or any of that world beating crap

You can’t trust anything they do or say
I never trusted Tories anyway

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Dominic with an eyetest
You can’t trust Priti in the slightest

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Rishi with the dinero
Or any of that world-beating crap

Ideology or incompetence, you choose
Whichever way your coin toss lands
It’s heads they win and tails you lose

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Michael with anything vital
Or any of that world-beating crap

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Gavin with your schools
You can’t trust this cabinet of fools

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Grant, you just can’t
And none of that world-beating crap

You can’t trust anything they do or say
I never trusted Tories anyway

You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Michael with anything vital
Or any of that world-beating crap

Farmer Dom

Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom

Farmer Steve offered his assistance
But Farmer Steve encountered resistance
Farmer Steve said there’s a safer way
But Farmer Dom told him to go away

Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom

Farmer Larry said I can help too
You don’t need to do anything brand new
But Farmer Larry’s help stayed on the shelf
Cos Farmer Dom wants the harvest to himself

Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom

 

Derek

Derek thinks that the lockdown’s over
Derek says get on with recovery
Derek’s got the phone-in on the blower
Derek won’t buy anything Chinese

Derek thinks Cummings should’ve got the sack
Derek voted to take control back
Derek has faith in the British public
Derek doesn’t know anyone that’s been sick

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

Derek is a fan of strong leadership
Derek now thinks that Johnson will fail
If he supports an advisor who’s a liar, which
Is as welcome in Clacton as a beached whale

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

He says if the virus don’t get him, something else will
As he rolls another fag and throws a burger on the grill
Derek says the risks are overrated
But he’ll follow the rules that’ve been promulgated

And he’s a regular caller to the Farage show
From the confines of his seaside bungalow
Nigel says it and Derek agrees
And Derek won’t buy anything Chinese

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

On Not Following the Science

It took the Cummings fiasco
For the government to let go
Of the scientific say so
With a bribe so shallow
For a back to work heigh-ho
And an off to school you go.

It’s still early you know,
The numbers could grow
But there’s no economic flow
As they tire of furlough
It’s about the dough
This public health blow,
Not keeping the R low
It’s about what we owe.

They claim progress although
The numbers don’t show
That we’re within a stone’s throw
Of Wuhan or Guangzhou,
We’re more Moscow than Tokyo
Or Montevideo;
While the White House sideshow
Lets Trump have a go
At the WHO.

So, when they say that they know
What you know they don’t know
And with words that sound hollow
Tell you to follow
And tell you to go
Reserve your right to say no.

Track Trace

A Daily Mail Poll

Did Cummings act responsibly
Legally, or with integrity?
70% of respondents disagree.
And 63% of answers back
Said that Johnson should’ve given him the sack,
While 66% of readers think it’s time
For Dominic Cummings to resign.

66% said he’s telling lies,
82% said he should apologise
And 78% surmise
That he didn’t drive to Barnard Castle to test his eyes.

Now, 70% of people polled agree
That it’s one rule for them and one for me.

Who expected condemnation on this scale
From the readership of the Daily Mail?

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Dominic Ran Away (Again)

Away run away and advisor fleet of feet
Bag over his shoulder he fled Downing Street
Away run away keep the media at bay
Cos Dominic Cummings upped and ran away

Dominic kept running ‘til he got to Durham Town
In defiance of the rule of law and the lockdown
With his wife and his son, they hit the motorway
So, who did Dominic infect along the way?

Away run away and advisor fleet of feet
Bag over his shoulder he fled Downing Street
Away run away keep the media at bay
Cos Dominic Cummings upped and ran away

On the 30th of March they said that he was ill
With a fortnight’s isolation at home to fulfil
Now, in Westminster the rules are all well known
But soon he was sighted at his parents’ home

Away run away and advisor fleet of feet
Bag over his shoulder he fled Downing Street
Away run away keep the media at bay
Cos Dominic Cummings upped and ran away

His wife said he lay doggo and his muscles they did twitch
But was silent on the secret of their location switch
Ten days of fever and of lockdown fourteen
But on the 12th he was in Barnard Castle seen

Away run away and advisor fleet of feet
Bag over his shoulder he fled Downing Street
Away run away keep the media at bay
Cos Dominic Cummings upped and ran away

Soon fit and well he was back at Downing Street
Assuming that his trip up north had been discreet
But another demonstration that he holds you in disdain
He was seen on the 19th back in Durham Town again

Away run away and advisor fleet of feet
Bag over his shoulder he fled Downing Street
Away run away keep the media at bay
Cos Dominic Cummings upped and ran away

 

Herd Immunity Cummings (Gets Caught Breaking the Rules)

Herd Immunity Cummings
Running all the way from Downing Street to Durham
Herd Immunity Coughing Cummings
With his wife and son, heading up the M1

Herd Immunity Cummings
Driving up the motorway thinks he’s got the virus
Like Mrs Herd Immunity Cummings
They both know they are breaking the guidance

Herd Immunity Cummings
King of the slogan, holds enormous sway
Herd Immunity Get Brexit Done Cummings
Got grassed up to Kuenssberg at the end of May

Herd Immunity Cummings
This time might just’ve got himself bitten
Perhaps Herd Immunity If He Lost His Job Cummings
Could Take Back Control and Pick For Britain.

cummings

A New Slogan

Here’s a new slogan
Worse than the last one
From the Cummings Hit Factory
Here’s a miss

Stay alert, by staying at home
But if you can’t work from home
You should stay alert by going to work
But who will look after the kids?

On staying alert by going to work
There’s little advice
Trust your boss to be nice
And not one that takes the piss

On staying alert while travelling to work
Stay alert by not taking the bus to get there
Stay alert by not taking the train to get there
Stay alert by walking or cycling there
Or taking your car and polluting the air
It’s a wonderful strategy, this

A new slogan which without regrets
No longer protects the NHS
Things must be alright, I guess
Or they’re really quite remiss

A new slogan, for England alone
The Scots still get to stay at home
The Welsh and Irish too
Westminster it seems, dismissed

A new slogan, launched with a virus-o-meter
A kind of R-value barometer
Whose needle is quivering permanently
Reflecting government uncertainty
Something’s clearly amiss

So, here’s a new slogan
Worse than the last one
From the Cummings Hit Factory
Here’s a miss