Hope in the Time of Coronavirus

Hope in the time of Coronavirus has been in short supply. Lockdown loonies combined with the incessant, daily pandemic curve-watching mixed up with our precondition of job loss terror has unleashed a perfect storm for our fragile souls. And this mega storm has created a national wellbeing crisis. One that needs a different kind of leadership – a leadership of hope.

You see, when we’re all feeling a little depressed we need small, incremental green shoots, particularly as we’re heading towards the second half of lockdown loonies. Cos with the benefit of hindsight it seems that around four weeks is our limit before lockdownitis truly sets in. The walls start closing in, the routine starts to feel a little, well, routine-like and we start reliving weird apocalyptic zombie movies in our nightly dreams that are just starting to feel a little too, like, possible. Enough I hear you shout! Time to snap out of it! Time to start thinking differently, to pick ourselves up, to shake off those lockdown blues. Time to stop staring at endless news conferences in the hope that, well, there might just be the vaguest amount of hope. Time to think about a new tomorrow, a better tomorrow and most important of all time to get back to McDonald’s.

You see, we can put up with the endless negative news cycles and the stay at home teens firing up testosterone like it was a chain saw in our left ear. We can handle Donnie and Bozzer banging on and off – mostly off. One being Mr time off and the other just off the rocker. We can take the military style operation of a weekly shop or drive to pick up gas or goddamned exercise in dodging everyone else to perform the perfect social distancing dance in a napkin sized so called community park with not a lot of the community bit left given the gestapo gangs of do gooders taking pics of us getting one inch too close to other earthly beings while dodging rabied dogs snarling at our proverbial heels. We can even take the new roadblock vigilantes straight out of the cast of Hot Fuzz that keep us from going too far to take a walk or jog or simply to go have sex in a forest. Doesn’t everyone do that? And talking about Hot Fuzz, have you met our local villagers? But while we can take all of this, we cannot, cannot, cannot take another friggin second without our Big Mac and fries.

Where’s the leadership of hope from Mickey D? They just keep telling us not yet. Not yet. What the f*** is not yet! Endlessly bombarding us with this horrifically over used Corona statement ‘not yet’ doesn’t solve a goddamned thing. Just cos every politician uses it doesn’t make it right. And they only us ‘not yet’ cos it’s French for I don’t know what the fuck’s going on in my government cos it’s such a friggin crap shoot of chaos right now that ‘not yet’ is as good a statement as your gonna get from me and in any case who thought getting elected meant we had to make decisions in the first place. And btw ‘not yet’ is only as overused as every goddamned Coronavirus statement from EVERY single venue or hotel or attraction or National Trust joint starting with ‘It is with a heavy heart that we have to close for now…’ What the f***, did they all just cut and paste the same friggin statement. They pay the bosses of these joints like cash went out of fashion (which it will soon but that’s another matter) and the closest they can get to writing a goddamned customer statement on the front of their website is a cut and f*** you paste.

But, getting back to the immediate Mickey D issue, how friggin long does it take to do socially distanced drive through or take out or just goddamned click and collect. You see I’m willing to let any politician we can still remember the name of, given Donnie and Bozzer hog EVERY airwave like a Corona virus on a pollution particle, take every last shred of rights from me but I’m not prepared to go another day without my McDonald’s. I mean there has to be some kind of limit right? There has to be a line – and that line could even extend to a friggin queue across London just to be able to exercise my inalienable right to chew on shit from Mickey D.

And that, in the end, is why we need a new kind of leadership. A leadership of hope. The thing that has gotten clearer and clearer from this pandemic is that the old fashioned Putin style, populist, white male, autocratic leader type that thrives off fear and flag and slightly strange free press semantics where the truth is as popular as the Coronavirus, is dead. And when I say dead I don’t just mean Kim Jon Ding-dong, I mean ALL of these old style leaders in government, in corporates and in life. And I guess to wrap this all up in a McWrapper what I’m really trying to say is that we should invest our time not just in finding a virus for this little Corona fella but also on a major Jacinda cloning programme so we can get Arderns running every government and corporate and mostly running McDonald’s. You see, if Jacinda was running things right now, I’d be sitting down at my local Mickey D swigging a chocolate shake soaking up a good old fashioned burger and fries while listening to Jacinda on McTV telling me that everything was going to be just fine. And I wouldn’t need to believe a goddamned word she said cos it wouldn’t matter two hoots of a Corona infected bat so long as I could hang out at my kinda heaven – Mickey D heaven.

McNewNorm really can be as simple as that.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

The Bad and the Ugly of Covid-19

Having previously covered the hero’s of the Coronavirus it’s time to examine the villains. There are, of course, far too many to mention and we apologise in advance if we’ve missed you out – it won’t be for want of trying. But we, like so many others, have just skeleton staff (literally) for now.

First up, it would be entirely remiss not to mention the little fella himself. No, not Danny de Vito, I’m talking about Corona. Like all good villains you have multiple personalities and names like Corona, Coronavirus, Covid, Covid-19, invisible enemy and fucking pain up the arse virus. You, dark Corona villain, can stealth it like the best of those bombers, you can spread like Nutella and you don’t need to waste money on fast fashion – you’re friggin invisible. You can teleport across time and space and you’re really hard to track or maybe that’s just a Chinese thing. You’ve gotten inside a bat, a cute little pangolin and countless ladies proving you can shake it up like the best James Bond. You get Prime Ministers so scared they hide for weeks or at least until dozzer come-on-me’s better, you get Donnie to show up for work most days and stay off the golf course for more than five minutes at a time. You’ve quietened Kim Jong Ding-dong, Jose Mourinho and the entire cast of the Lion King but apparently not the Pope, Andrea Bocelli or Dave the incessant, pain up the frigging rear end Tesco boss who keeps emailing me telling me how goddamned smarty pants and heroic he is just for delivering food. Obviously not that smart cos he keeps emailing folk who wouldn’t shop at his over-processed food joint even if Corona made it the last food joint on this scorched earth. Mind you with climate chaos crashing down on us maybe…

But enough about the invisible guy let’s focus on the ones he’s brought out of hiding just to remind us that a good ol crisis can bring out the best of so many but the worse from a terrifying few. So let’s celebrate the few. The good news is we don’t have to go much further than Donnie, Bozzer or Bols-anus-aros to see what bad really looks like and they remind us every single remorseless day across any frggin media we wish we could hide from. But, it seems, they also went and inspired a whole cast of wannabes. Like the Turkish dudes who promised 400,000 hospital gowns to the really desperate muppets in Westminster only to deliver 4 or was it 40,000 who’s counting… Well, maybe the same loonies who bought a gazillion antibody tests that couldn’t antibody test their way out of an infected rat. Then there’s the vacuum cleaner guy who loved the idea of an independent UK so much he moved his entire company to Singapore presumably cos he had some friggin scientific insight into the fact that the UK would be about as good at prepping for Corona as a teenage misfit prepping for GCSE’s only to find out that Singapore recycles Corona infection peaks like a high speed wash cycle. But, maybe he could reinvent himself with the world’s first Dyson Corona vacuum. Just shove this baby down your throat, press the green button and it’s guaranteed to suck Corona right out of you or you get your money back or a free dose of hydroxychloroquine or a sun ray down your gullett or just plain disinfectant (thanks again Donnie).

Let’s not though forget to mention the guys who made the latest James Bond movie and kicked the release date out a year proving they’re not only the greediest bastards on the planet but also the dumbest – I mean just think of all the gazillions of Netflix dollars they could have made while we watched it over and over and over. I mean what better cure for Corona-lockdown-beat-me-over-the-head-with-boredom-itis than the latest Bond release on constant Sky store loop. Mind you, talking of dumb schmucks how about this Georgia governor Kemp who thought that a Corona infection curve going up was a good thing and lifted the lockdown right as their infections were spiralling like a football straight out of Tom Bradys palm. Dude, curve up equals not good Corona spread – curve down better. Easy to remember as it’s the opposite of the effect from your Viagra pills.

But, last of all, I would like to reserve a special thank you to Xi Ping Pong for not listening to that nice young doctor dude who spilled the beans on Corona way back when and could have stopped this whole damned Corona thing in its infant tracks while, at the same time, making sure that at the very least we got to see James Bond on the big screen which is our goddamned divine inalienable democratic right. And while you might not be that into the whole rights thing we are – or at least we are when it comes to James. Got it!

I think I’ll go watch Tiger King again.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Coronavirus

Sticking with the slightly biblical theme of yesterday’s post I thought that today we should delve a little deeper into who exactly are the saints and the sinners of Covid-19.

Let’s start with the easy one – the saints: naturally the list includes anyone working for any healthcare service anywhere in the world with a big shout out for Kim Jong-ding-dongs poor about to be decapitated physicians, but also care givers (particularly elderly care providers in the thick of it), delivery people, supermarket staff and generally anyone supporting us through lockdown lock-me-up-and-throw-the-key-away-hell-after-all-have-you-met-my-teens? Added to this list should be Milan’s town planner who’s just figured out that pedestrianising the city is the best way to keep Italian drivers off the streets and keep everyone else alive. And a last saintly hat tip goes to Netflix for bringing us ‘Tiger King’ cos we naively thought that shit couldn’t get weirder than this Corona thing!

But, that’s the obvious list. And the one we should all keep raving about and shouting or clapping or singing or walking round and round the garden on a zimmer frame for or climb endless Everest like stairs or Christ even binge watch the Kardashians for. You see, while politicians may have dawdled/dragged their proverbials/hid in the nice house yet somehow paraded their shiz all over prime-time press conferences the saintly ones have been out there holding us all together. You know actually doing stuff called work and getting us what we need to get through lockdown-looneys. And the great irony is, now we’re stuck at home in gracious perpetuity (with the teens), we’d bight off any of their left feet or arm or pretty much any limb just to be able to go back to work. Yes, the same work we’ve been bitchin’ and moaning about for the last God knows how long suddenly seems as attractive as a simple back massage from Pamela Anderson. The same bosses we’ve been whining about and trying to undermine at every turn now seem almost, well, saintly. Particularly when those bosses are politicians who seem to think its OK for them to go back to work but that we still can’t cos we haven’t figured out how to work Zoom.

But there are also unsung hero’s (obviously not Andrea Bocelli) and we’d (not weed) like to shout them out. There’s the Pope who wears a weird robe thingy while walking the empty streets of Rome with some shady looking dudes in black suits stalking him as he tirelessly searches the alleyways for his flock cos they haven’t shown up at St Peters Square the last few Sundays. There’s Mick Jagger who gets the prize for shutting himself in a pint sized room for that online concert to make himself look bigger and presumably poorer to provide a cover for the fact that he pays Charlie Watts so little he can’t even afford a drum kit and also for the fact that he’s the only man on earth smaller than Tom Cruise. There’s Mike Pence for putting up with Donnie and there’s anyone working with Pence for putting up with him and there’s obviously the entire British population for putting up with you know who.

There’s CNN’s Chris Cuomo for getting Covid-19 and being forced to stay on air while his dad gets it up the rear from Donnie and there’s all of us for having to watch their kinda weird English finance news presenter dude bang on about hoping we all have a ‘profitable hour’! A f****** ‘profitable hour’ tard, how in pandemic hell are we supposed to have ANY ‘profitable hour’ when we’re all bankrupt or doled up or paying others to take our oil cos we lost the manual that explained how to switch the goddamned well off or just plain friggin broke thanks to this Corona thing which, seemingly, he’s the last dunce on the planet to think is not a pandemic but a friggin Mexican beer. Christ, does he watch his own news? Maybe he finds himself as annoying as the rest of us and dozes off when he’s on.

There’s my plumber who’s gotta deserve a shout out in the vain hope that he might show up this decade once we’re set free and hopefully won’t hit me up the ass with partial amber friggin traffic light ‘special’ lockdown-looney pricing. Then there’s my mother, who let’s face it, is the only person out there that actually bothers to read this crap. Love you mum. But, last of all, there’s me. Yep, me. For doing nothing more than putting up with the teens. You see, when they had to go to school for real they could get themselves up just fine. Now you know who has to get them up for ‘school’ every friggin day which you would have thought has gotten easier given their commute is exactly five steps past the kitchen which they raid on the way and all they have to do all day is to sit on the couch and pretend to listen to some poor teacher politely bang on to them online while instead they watch TV, do their nails, fall asleep, raid the fridge a little more, social media meme each other and scream the moment I ask them to do anything what so friggin ever as all of a sudden they miraculously (yes Francis they can do it too) have way too much school stuff on one screen when they’re actually watching Kim, and I don’t mean Kim Jong-ding-dong. Then, of course, when it comes to them having dinner or exercise or anything that doesn’t involve them lying on the couch pretending to be at school they just shout out about how school online means it runs all day and night and seven days a week and could we please just keep bringing the food and drinks so they can keep 100% focused on their studies really, honest, promise. And yet, somehow, I can only hear the odd bit of teacher coming out of the room that they keep tightly locked like a government backed loan, but really all I friggin hear ALL day is Kim or Kylie or Bieber-still-with-a-baby-face-no-matter-how-hard-he-tries-to-be, well, hard or friggin Billie Eilish I-got-my-hair-stuck-in-the-paint-machine and the entire goddamned cast of Glee.

And seeing as that list took a while/my sanity I guess I’m gonna go put my feet up with the teens and you’ll have to read my next post for the list of Coronavirus bad and uglies.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Life after Covid-19 and a New Set of Commandments

I know it’s hard to imagine a life after Coronavirus, particularly if you’re living in one of those countries still in the early phases of lockdown with a mirage of an exit plan and a leader in exile. But there has to be life after Coronavirus a little like there had to be life after Napoleon, the great depression, WW2, the Vietnam war, the Cuban missile crisis and even life after Ted Bundy.

But what will life look like after we sweep away this disease? And, while we’re at it, surely we have to ask ourselves more celestially vital questions like how much of the next reality TV dystopian norm will feature the Kardashians? Everyone talks about unprecedented times or maybe it’s just politician cover-my-back-end-lingo or perhaps this time round we will get a chance to reboot the planet and answer the biggest, biggest question of all (yes, even bigger than the Kardashians) which is – do we restart later this year exactly where we started off? (Christ another four years of the Donnie and Bozzer show). Or do we start back in a different way? Do we learn our collective lessons and change course? A timely question given this week, Wednesday to be precise, is Earth Day.

You see we keep telling ourselves that Coronavirus is the biggest public health crisis in modern times. But, what if it’s not? What if there’s an even larger public health crisis just around the corner and the next one’s the real deal? What if David Attenborough (for President – you heard it here first) and every single friggin climate scientist on this entire goddamned planet is actually right and Donnie, Marie and friggin tweedle dum(b) are wrong and the Climate virus will make the Corona virus look like a nano drop in the proverbial Mexican bottled beer. What if Covid-19 is just a dress rehearsal for the real pandemic, nature’s back to ice-age next extinction, that when it unleashes its full fury on us in a decade or two means we ALL get wiped?? You know, the bye bye human race kinda wiped.

Or, what if we use Earth Day to make a new list of commandments. The I don’t want to find out that Donnie/Bozzer/Bolso-I’m-a-nut-naro are actually completely full of, well, nothing and we should have listened to Dave boy Attenborough and ALL those thousands and thousands and thousands of climate scientists who actually know their shit kinda ten commandments. And in anycase, seeing as we all have a bit more time on our hands, you could logically argue that the ten commendments should be up for a bit of a refresh.

Here are the new revised Ten Commandments (2.0):

1. Thou shalt not create any unnecessary waste including food waste, plastic waste, clothing waste, energy waste or crap tv.

2. Thou shalt listen to Elon Musk at all times and driveth electric cars and not just hybrids and moveth to electric heating and renewable energy sources for all thine energy needs saying a collective goodbye to the multi-headed hydras reminiscent of mine devileth nemesis nameth of the SaudiAramco, Rosneft, PteroChina, ExxonMobil, Shell and BP.

3. Thou shalt anointeth leaders and politicians who cometh from more humble loins and knoweth more about facts and telling of the truth and therefore of the persuasion of the scientists or engineers, doctors or environmentalists and NOT thine swine lawyers or accountants, pr people or real estate agents. And should it pleaseth thou tryeth to avoideth thine somewhat less than normal Kardashians. The justeth (not Bieber) new leaders shall putteth thine environment first and solveth the climate crisis straighteth away before any other of the priorities or BREXITeth distractions and they shalt always investeth in the universaleth healthcare systems and research.

4. Thou shalt eat a plant based diet and at a minimum becometh flexitarians partaking of the meat only once or twice per week. Thou shalt try to grow as much of thine vegetables as possible or buyeth locally so limiting the transportation of thine food.

5. Thou shalt fly in the sky by the skyplane only once or twiceth per annum and though shalt support local tourism and particularly eco tourism. Leaveth thine beaches for thine divine turtles, thine forests for the tigers and thine wetlands for thine birds.

6. Thou shalt supporteth slow fashion only and buyeth of thine clothes just twiceth per annum making sure to buyeth of apparel that are sourced ethically and useth sustainable and natural materials that are designeth to lasteth many years. Be careful of the mirage of the undivine celeb endorsement or the advertising agency web of the mumbo jumbo.

7. Thou shalt only worketh for companies that have cleareth and detaileth carbon neutral policies and that alloweth all their workers either to worketh from the home or to traveleth to the physical workplace either on the foot or the bicycle. Only worketh with government organisations and political parties that will not faileth to achieveth carbon neutral by 2030 and haveth clear natural capital economic policies.

8. Thou shalt rewild thy gardens, parks, commons and farms. Thou shalt not throweth the rocks or spears at thy birds in the sky in particular the pheasant, woodcock or thine grouse. Though shalt ban the trade of thine exotic animals and thou shalt closeth off of all wild animal markets and the hunting of thine endangered species or removal of the holy tusks.

9. Thou shalt not harm thy neighbour unless they cuteth down trees, plougheth up fields, destroyeth the hedgerows, cuteth the wild grass unnecessarily, useth of the fake grass or plants, overgrazeth the sheep, cow or pig, wear fast fashion, adorneth their garbage bins with thine single use plastics or eateth at McDonald’s.

10. Though shalt liveth a more kind and generous life, finding thine balance of thine life, enjoying the simpler of the pleasures including helping in thine community, enjoying more idle time witheth thine family and enjoying time in the rewilded nature even with thine (holy) wine. Though shalt listen to thine Lord but not those in the House of the Lord(s) that is full of the blashphemer or the stone slinger unto the glass house or thine unelected chamber. Thou should turneth the cheek and yeteth payeth greater attention to thine health, hospitals, religion and finding of the calm and balanced way. Havith faith that if thine follows theseth commendments that thine future shall be rosy.

Or ignore the above and look forward to Corona 2.0 and a Fort Knox like lockdown that even friggin Houdini himself would never find an exit from. Your choice.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Climate Change and Coronavirus

The problem with Climate Change is Coronavirus and the problem with Coronavirus is Climate Change. Go figure. And I promise I’m not trying to confuse you – we get enough of that from our elected compadres (see previous post) so no desire here to continue to screw the pooch/muddy the (polluted) waters/sound like a politician.

The sad reality is that our continuous erosion of vital environmental ecosystems by endless deforestation, expansion of industrial scale agriculture and the forced inhabitation of what probably should be protected forests, coastal areas and wetlands has contributed big time to climate change which in turn has kicked us back up the ass by contributing big time to Covid-19 which has given me the chance to prove that I too can talk smarty pant environmental mumbo like the best of them.

You see poorer farmers in less developed countries have generally been shoved off their small holdings by big agriculture which has forced them to move to cheaper, wilder environmentally sound foresty kinda places where one of the few ways they can make cash (other than flashing their you know what’s on Zoom) is by hunting down some pretty weird creatures to pay for the way too many bills they accumulated thanks to big agro taking the rug from under their paddy field.

This eco migration led one of them to a place where some poor little bat (don’t blame him) gave a big ol’ Corona bug to some cute little armadillo looking thing called a pangolin (don’t blame her) who was then caught by said impoverished ex-smallholder and sold to some not so cute live animal market in you know where. Anyhoo, this sorry, infected pangolin was tout suite bought up by some equally cute little kid who wanted it as a live action stuffed toy or maybe it was bought by some super hungry person who just wanted to eat it. And they’d need to be super hungry cos have you seen the scaly little thing? (NOT the kid) And not exactly top of Michel Roux’s menu. The rest as they say is Corona history. So the next time you’re out trash talking scaly little wild animals think how much this dudes done to change the course of history versus what maybe any of us have done – obviously other than God or Elvis or the guy who invented the Big Mac.

But the reality is that this poor little pangolin who probably sits in some even poorer dudes belly by now, if not she sits right at the top of the U.S.’s most wanted list along with the guy who invented ISIS, may just be the first step in nature’s combined boot back up the ass to us for having decimated nature’s ability to absorb all the gargantuan amounts of CO2 and other noxious gases we pump out while simultaneously destroying nature’s habitats to the point where we’ve killed enough animals to take us straight to the next ice age and back. And all this while we nuke plant life and insects who by the friggin way need each other but apparently nothing like as much as we need them cos without insects and plants we stop the flow of another (non Corona) invisible thingy called oxygen which means we just stop breathing.

So, we may survive this Corona blast from a rewilded past but that won’t matter while we keep raping the planet cos there’s a lot more bat’s and pangolins out there and we seem to have pissed nature off to the point that the next boot back us might just lead to a reverse big bang sucking us into some nano-sized black hole to hell and (no going) back.

The other problem with Coronavirus (sorry) is that right at the point that the airwaves were finally starting to focus on climate change they’ve gotten all bunged up with the Corona meaning that there is a risk Coronavirus might just stick it to climate change as well as all of us. Stay with me. You see Coronavirus doesn’t just attack our bodies and health systems but it also reenforces our politicians innate inability to concentrate on more than one thing at a time (see Brexit) while attacking our economic arteries to the point where no one’s gonna have any money left to fix the climate thingy that gave us Tesla, Virgin Galactic and this damned pandemic in the first place.

And while all this eco tripping doomsday soothsaying just makes me want to go to the pub, Corona/climate change/one little bat and one very cute little pangolin put paid to that too. Christ.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Politics in the Time of Coronavirus

Politics is pretty painful at the best of times – as example the U.S. has you know who, the WHO (not the band) now also knows what it’s like to have you know who, the UK had the EU now it has the other you know who, France had Macron now has dudes in yellow jerseys, Italy never knows who the frig they have and Spain has, er, Ibiza. Don’t even get me started on what Russia or China have. But, even in the best of times there ain’t now’t so queer as politics.

Then again there’s nothing like a good pandemic to take it to a whole new level. And when I say new level I mean it’s like turning your gigantic rocket like speaker up to supersonic super-woof to the point where your ears blast right out of your head as now we have to listen to the truth serum masters of ultimate power bang on incessantly, hour after hour after 24 hour, day in day out. Frig, they make the Kardashians look like Mormons. You can’t move for getting streamed yet another daily press briefing about the newest politico BS mumbo jumbo that is ‘fact first and led by science’. Led by fact and science my left nut. These briefings are about as led by science as McDonald’s is led by Weight Watchers.

You know facts are a bit wobbly when the one FACT we do know is that we have about as many testing kits in the West as we have honest politicians. So how in the world we’re supposed to believe the Corona infected number God himself knows. In fact, it seems the daily stat for people infected with Covid-19 should be renamed the daily number of test kits we actually have that worked versus the fictional level we friggin dream we had. It seems even the number of deaths is not entirely accurate mind you ask any number of expert tyrannical despots how easy it is to bend that little reality.

But, then again, who needs fiction any more – we’re living it! I kinda feel for Matt Damon and the really expensive cast of ‘Contagion’ I mean they genuinely thought they were onto something. Then along came Corona and their supposed movie blockbuster looks, well, a bit less popular. And given we’re all finally living in the global Truman Show it could well mean that the best thing we can do right now is to look to the cast of either movie to step up and run our countries – I mean we can’t really ignore the fact that they have actually gotten through this weird shit before. And the one thing all our current politicians keep telling us is they ain’t seen nothing like this (friggin mess) before. Now that’s reassuring. Mind you as reassuring as their lockdown exit plans? Donald’s entire plan comes down to a date – May 1st. And, well, that’s actually it. A date. But he keeps telling us it’s a plan. I hate to say it Donnie but that’s not really what a plan looks like that’s just three letters and a number! Boris is at least honest enough about not having a plan which is apparently because he no longer believes in plans, after all look where his plan not to have kids out of wedlock got him.

And what would it look like if Matt Damon was actually running the UK? Well, he’s clearly quite Jason Bourne fit and having had me at fit he obviously gets my vote. So what about Jim Carrey for President of the USA? Well given his name isn’t Donal Trump then that’s an easy one too. Then again, according to the latest media ‘fact first’ (my right nut this time) it seems the only leaders getting it right just now are women. So presumably that means that if a Kiwi nurse can fix Boris (and we oh so graciously let her work here) then in the same vein we could let Jacinda run Westminster with the added benefit that a job swap the other end of the world seems like a pretty safe spot for Boris right now.

The other bit I really don’t get is given that we’re all actually living in the movie set of ‘Contagion’ you would have thought that the politicians would have it nailed by now. I mean it’s ALL fiction dudes so you don’t even need to pretend to tell the truth cos, let’s face it, we don’t go to the movies to get a dose of reality – we go to the movies to get as far away from that one as NASA can extra-terrestrially take us. So politicos this could be one of those once in a lifetime moments you’ve been waiting for pretty much all your career when you get ti legit spin it like there’s no spin class like tomorrow.

Oh………. you already are. Oh, shit.

In that case where’s Barack Obama when you need him? Christ (he) just Easter resurrected on my stream endorsing Joe Biden meaning Joe will get EVERY vote like ANYWHERE. Perhaps even less surprising given Joe looks a bit like Matt Damon a few years down the road which finally lays claim to the fact that one day we’ll all wake up and realise that this is just one big Contagion/Truman dream and the only real nightmare we can’t ever frggin wake up from is, yep, you guessed it the Donnie and Boris show. Sorry.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Patience During the Coronavirus Lockdown

As a number of countries reach the mid point of the harsh (we hope) version of the Coronavirus lockdown I thought we should examine patience. After all, we’re gonna need it.

Patience is something we have to relearn cos let’s face it none of us have it any more. We’ve all pretty much gotten the saintly virtue bashed out of us by, well, life. I mean, how in Mahatma Gandhi are we supposed to remain calm and zen like and mr mystic-yogi-go-round-like-an-anorexic-loony-in-a-loin-cloth when we have to put up with CNN 24 hours a day, emails banging at our smartphone like a friggin woodpecker on coke, the bosses ragging on us like we never dumped the parents all while the debts on those damned pay day loans have us perpetually charging around at 3,000 goddamned miles per hour just to keep up with the blasted interest rates/debt collectors/online bank manager avatar and perhaps worse of all – the wife nagging. And all of that acts merely as the day time precursor to a hell bent sleepless night (I wish I was in Seattle) with the twin toddlers blaring away in my left ear like a Harley Davidson with a sawn off exhaust.

So now, like the invisible crack hand, along comes Covid-19 solely to add yet another (like we needed it) stress tanker of fuel to the manic wildfire (sorry Australia) of our clearly non patient lives – even if for one second we put aside the minor, miniature, irrelevant reprieve from the debt collector who’s gone strangely Corona quiet and my Damian like bosses who shut my frigging smartphone email up right after they delivered a warp speed, Harley sized, boot up the ass trip to benefits town presumably so the owner-likes of Philip Green/Richard Branson/Mike Ashley can just keep living in the style they’re so entitled er accustomed to. But heyho, who cares, certainly not Donald or Boris.

I do, though, have some good news for you and let’s face it we need a little cos so long as the above dynamic duo keep managing things as they are we’ll all have the curve flattened on our life expectancy meaning a swift goodbye to us (which is not the good news) but might also mean bye bye debt collector’s, bosses, bankers, CNN news presenters or whatever (and this could be the good news). Saying that, if this doesn’t come to pass then no worries at all cos we’ll just get back to good ol’ life as usual stressed and miserable as hell. What though, say you, is the good news if the latter kicks in? Well der, it’s obviously that the second wave of Covid-19 means it mutates to the point where it only targets rear-line workers like debt collectors, bankers, bosses and the dynamic duo. Tara!

Saying all this, I still believe there could be another way. There might be a more cosmic, karmic, saintly, dare I say even God like solution to this whole Coronastress life bouncing right back at ya to shitty normal thing. Cos one day, as if by some hand of acid taking fate, Coronavirus might wake up and get fed up to hell being stuck in our slightly pathetic, manic, hyper wired, last person on earth to actually still shop at the Gap, self-centrico, Kardashian watching bodies and sod off to another planet where the inhabitants are less, well, like us. You know, where marijuana’s legal. And if for some bizarre reason that doesn’t happen we can just go and get religion/foraging/yogic/a life/rid of the Donnie and Boris act or an oven to stick our heads in.

I think I’ll go download that podcast on the three minute guide to wellbeing by the Kardashians.

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Outdoor Exercising during the Coronavirus Lockdown

Exercising outdoors once a day is one of our last remaining Coronarights as locked-down human beings. At least it is in much of the Western world (and for the record I mean the exercise part being our right and not the being a human being human right thing or at least not yet. Mind you…). And you know just how important a right outdoor exercising is when governments keep threatening to take it away – thank you Paris!

There are a few basic rules to outdoor lockdown exercise and you know what they say about rules being made to be…

Rule No 1. Apparently exercise constitutes you actually moving so any of us seen hanging around on benches pretending to bench press or performing some slomo lying down yoga thingy should expect to be arrested. Saying that no one has actually set guidelines on what specific form of movement constitutes exercise. So, for example, when you’re really hungry you could literally kill two birds with one stone by chasing after your dog so hard that it drops dead – it’s totally legit exercise and you’ve just nailed your bbq fodder for the night without having to don the hazmat suit to go fetch it at the Tesco. The key here is the word ‘moving’ so you could argue that moving the deck chair around the park is legit exercise – though we would suggest bench pressing it over your head every so often so you really enhance that legit bit.

Rule No 2. When performing outdoor exercise you must not break social distancing rules other than with the family unit living under the same roof. So if you want to practice boxing then you CAN use toddler as punch bag but not your boxing buddy who you ‘accidentally’ bumped into in the park. Jose Mourinho might want to pay attention to this one. You can practice fencing with the teens or bashing them with a baseball bat or dropping them over the side punting down the lake. Tree hugging is allowed so long as it does not act as foreplay to something much more interesting and try not to tree hug the cat cos apparently animals can catch Covid-19 which I guess is no shit sherlock given animals gave us this friggin pandemic in the first place. So actually you might want to rethink the chasing the dog till it drops bbq bit but you don’t have to rethink the illegit sun bathing thing any further than buying a stretcher and getting the tweens to carry you round the park at a double quick march while you stretch out in the shorts with your headphones on so you get to hear ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ rather than the tweens whingeing on while you enjoy optimal tanning tactics with the sun reflector under your chops. Just make sure not to do this for too long in case you get skin cancer (maybe not in England) or park infected with the Corona – mind you if you do catch Corona (not the drink) the tweens can just keep stretchering you all the way down to A&E and if you don’t you know what excuse to pull out your rear end when you get chased down by the police – which could also get constituted as just another form of exercise.

Rule No 3: Outdoor exercise must not contravene the social gathering rule. This one is really simple – whatever Jose Mourinho tells you to do just ignore it and if Jake Gyllenhaal and that spidey kid challenge you to the outdoor version of standing upside down while taking your t-shirt on and off just remember they are paid enough to do dumb fuck things like that and they probably have way better abs than you so do a Ryan Reynolds and just say ‘no’. Mind you if Pamela Anderson asks you to do it then that’s a whole different game of socially distance compromised football. Sorry Jose. Again. But, if a whole load of you all ran round the park at the same time stretchered by tweens and on the sound of sirens you all headed in concert to the nearest hospital then please do the decent thing on arrival and put your tweens forward as recently graduated medical students which could prove to be a bullet proof way of silencing them while you volunteer to clean the toilets which would be a bullet proof way of silencing you and finally bring a whole load more meaning to listening to ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ on the stretcher. Just let me know which hospital you ended up in so when I land Coronavirus I can steer as far away as possible from it.

All considered, I think I’ll just exercise at home.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Eating to survive the Coronavirus Lockdown

In one of my earlier posts we looked at what we can and can’t do during the Coronavirus lockdown. While there’s a seismicly large list of things we can’t do there is, sadly, just a very short list of things we can do. I’m glad to say that right up there in the legit list is ‘eating’. Or is it…

While modern capitalism has made damned sure that getting food, i.e. hitting the supermarket in a non-heist kinda way, was our most basic God given right, it’s now about as easy as doing a downward dog without cracking your back. But, you know you may be in some kinda food pickle when the big-ass boss dude from Tesco writes to you personally – and presumably every other potential customer on this planet – cos who can remember the last time we shopped there. I mean have you seen those deals at lidl?? Mind you, only the world’s first friggin pandemic gets Tesco boss-man to actually get off his you know what to do this bizarre thingy called ‘talking to the punter’ – but, none the less, he breaks all his permo customer distancing rules just to let us know how easy it is to shop at Tesco again, presumably so long as: a) you don’t need to spend more than a toilet rolls worth cos that’s how you can keep it within contactless payment limits and not get smeared with coronachromes banging away at the payment gadget buttons (can’t they just buy some of their own friggin cleaning sanitiser producty thing and clean those damned machines a bit more??), b) you go into their store one at a time which means you can’t dump the bill on your partner and c) you be patient with their delivery guy/gal cos apparently they’re so damned popular that the first delivery spot is in 2028.

So we decide to don the hazmat suit and head to the local supermarket following the latest, latest guidelines which state that on our return we should leave the food unpacked and outside for at least 3 hours so any germs that might have gotten onto the non dodgy food from the shipper/wharehouse/store die off outside and not in your belly meaning in turn that if you’re one of the gazzilion people living in a shoebox apartment you have to leave the food on the street so you lose it to the gits nextdoor and if your luckily enough to have a terrace it goes to the birds and having a garden just means the dog gets it. Which all adds up to going hungry for another week or hitting the store twice in a day guaranteeing you either get arrested or go broke. Mind you, what’s new. In the mean time that nice top man from Tesco gets to make even more obscene money while we all starve to death from buying his food which I guess is capitalism in a nutshell.

Or, don’t go shopping at all. Now there’s a plan worthy of a whole new food survival plan. Instead we could just eat each other which should deal with the whole social distancing thing, or eat the neighbours which not only means they can’t steal the food next time but also deals with the over population thingy that probably got us to this pandemic food-hole in the first place or just eat the dog who likely got Coronavirus from eating our food-in-the-garden that got it from the contaminated till at the Tesco that got it from their wharehouse which got it from the Tesco boss man when he visited said wharehouse which was his grand plan all along to get us to freak out about contaminated food so we have to leave it out in the street/terrace/garden so he can look like a hero for getting us all to shop more often so he can write us this goddamned self gloating email so he gets to keep his job and his bonus the size of my dogs belly even though he never spoke to a damned customer in his life – up until this email of course. Which might also be capitalism in a nutshell but, let’s be honest, might also prove that he’s actually damned clever.

But then again getting Coronavirus could mean that you don’t need food at all or that you get to go to hospital and eat their food for free. Having tasted hospital food I think I’ll just curl up, find some religion and fast until this whole Covid-19 lockdown thing goes away.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.

Wellbeing Survival Tips for the Coronavirus Lockdown

I was watching one of those popular news channel shows when they ran a section on wellbeing tips for surviving the Coronavirus lockdown. It got me thinking (which is generally a dangerous thing).

Here are some of the wellbeing tips from the nice lady: 1. Don’t gorge on Coronavirus news and get info overload. And to be honest she kinda had me at that one. I mean how in Ted Turners sake are we supposed to dodge Covid-19 news – it’s friggin everywhere. It’s plastered all over the TV, Internet, email inboxes, Whatsapp yacks, social media, telephone chats with ANYONE and family chit chats. So I guess where she was heading was we should dump the broadband, TV, cable, satellite, mobile phone, land-line AND conversations with the family – OK, now I’m kinda listening. It would also sure take social distancing to a whole new level and presumably leave us talking to the dog which I noticed I was starting to do in any case – I mean how in the world else am I supposed to dodge the inane socio-babble with the teens. It may also prove just how clever this wellbeing lady might actually be. Or maybe not. Take a look at her second piece of wellbeing advice.

2. Make sure you have as many virtual social interactions as possible. Which probably means she’s an investor in Zoom. Or maybe not given we’ve already taken her first piece of advice by now and have no phone, broadband, Skype or Whatsapp. Which is though saving us a tonne of money and reminding us just how powerful ‘the sound of silence’ actually is and how wellbeing smart those Simon and Garfunkel guys really were and maybe they should be giving us wellbeing advice instead or maybe they already have and we just need to listen to all their songs which of course I can’t friggin do as I dumped the goddamned broadband. Mind you thanks to her advice I have at least gotten really good at hacking into the neighbours Wi-Fi and cable box.

Anyhoo, her next piece of wellbeing advice went a little like this: 3. Go out into nature as often as possible. Which is a real kick in the pants for pretty much everyone as let’s face it luvvy we all live in shoebox apartments with windows jammed shut thanks to the smog thing and the closest we get to outdoor space is the cats litter tray. So I guess that means get out onto the streets and parks and hit the yoga mat to meditate which leads straight to getting arrested for ‘sunbathing’, getting ass dumped in jail for kinda screaming that I was actually yoga mat exercising and go catch Coronavirus in jail cos let’s face it it’s kinda hard to do the social distancing thingy in there.

The last titbit I remember was wellbeing tip number 4. Gather as a family as often as possible to generally chat, play and meet. You’re friggin joking right. Have you met my Damian family?? I mean a chat has some friggin way of always turning into some whine or winge or teenage-style-endless-friggin-list-of-reasons-why-friends-are-bitchin-Netflix-ain’t-ever-got-enough-shows-my-buddys-all-have-the-iphone11x-so-where-the-frig-is-mine-oh-and-school-is-just-as-lame-online. So the only possible reason for this last (thank Damian) piece of well(not)being advice is presumably cos the nice wellbeing lady doesn’t have a family or she doesn’t have a brain or she’s hard of hearing and keeps that hearing device handily turned off. Well I can tell you, not in this house. Here we pray for the moment our ears get stood on by a buffalo so we get hearing devices and make sure they’re permanently shut off.

But thanks for those wellbeing tips. Really. Oh, and for the family wellbeing meeting bit see my last post.

If you enjoy these posts on ‘Surviving’ all I ask is for you to support a vital Climate Change project, called DSP, by giving just £3 or just over $3 per month. To find out more CLICK THIS LINK.