Government’s actions are not funny any more
ORDINARY people are struggling to get a coronavirus test.
Many have had to travel hundreds of miles. Test and Trace supremo Dido Harding tried to explain the latest debacle.
She claimed that despite multiple warnings over the summer about an imminent rise in cases, she didn’t see it coming. Perhaps she should have gone to Barnard Castle with Dominic Cummings.
More misery was heaped on our beleaguered health secretary when his boss instructed him to launch “Operation Moonshot”.
Unfortunately for Matt Hancock, this wasn’t the one-way lunar trip he was probably hoping for.
It is the fanciful notion that Dido’s outfit can test 10 million people a day.
This idea is so unrealistic that it deserves to be renamed using a farmyard term.
Meanwhile, our leader, who sees himself very much in Winston Churchill’s image, came across more like a pound shop Max Miller, as he grinned his way through the “rule of six” announcement.
Leaving Bullingdon club humour aside, by setting a completely arbitrary number for gatherings, the new rule is confusing and potentially unfair.
There is a way around it, though. Larger groups can dress up in tweed and plus fours. They could stand around gazing at the sky and guffaw, just as the grouse shooting set might do.
Leaving working men’s club humour aside, I hope that no one follows the government’s example in breaking the rule of law.
In normal times, gross ineptitude might lead to contrite apologies, corrective action, and maybe even resignations.
We are not in normal times, though. Blatant lying is deemed acceptable and rank incompetence is almost seen as a badge of honour and often the gateway to the House of Lords.
A recent poll showed that 44 per cent of us think the Prime Minister is doing a good job. I can’t begin to imagine how much worse things would have to be before people change their minds, but there is a very real chance we may find out.
A former employer once described our leader as more Alan Partridge than Winston Churchill.
Unfortunately, this isn’t an episode of a sitcom that we can switch off, even though it’s just not funny anymore.
Yawn, belch, sneeze and splutter, “I don’t feel good,” hear me mutter. Cry, sniff, burp and wheeze,
“Pass that box of tissues please”. Hiccup, stretch and then a cough, “This darn virus will finish me off!”
Hessle.