The Biscuit, The Bug and Labour Madness

I read today that the Biscuit is feeling increasingly isolated and alone in his new life since leaving the Royal Family. I have no sympathy I am afraid.

The problem with Harry and his Yank is that in a very short time, they have become increasingly preposterous. Just listen to them earnestly elaborating on their new charity aims: ‘To do something of meaning, to do something that matters. Archewell is a name that combines an ancient word for strength and action, and another that evokes the deep resources we each must draw upon.’

Are either of them affionados of classical Greek I wonder?

So far the only deep resources Harry and Meghan have drawn upon are Prince Charles’s bank accounts. I mean, who are they trying to fool? The current global health crisis has made many take stock, and to focus on what is really important – family, health, love and safety.

One of the results of this is that it throws an increasingly harsh light on the kind of virtue signalling, woke values and empty words of people like this pair, exposing the vacuity at the heart of their endeavours. ‘We look forward to launching Archewell when the time is right,’ they say. Couldn’t they have waited until the time was right to tell us they were going to wait until the time was right to tell us?

Look around you Sussexes or whatever you call yourselves now. Prime Minister Boris Johnson lies gravely ill in a London hospital. The Queen has just delivered the speech of her life; an inspiring oration that summed up the perilous situation in which we now find ourselves. That speech undoubtedly strengthened the bonds between the monarchy and the nation. It wasn’t an empty gesture that tainted the royals with the cheap values of celebrity and personal ambition.

And if the future begins with Archewell – where does it end? For everything the Biscuit and his Bride do and say now seems to raise more questions than answers. He has always maintained that his abdication from royal life stemmed from a desire to protect his son. If that was the case, why move him from the relative safety and isolation of Vancouver Island to the bustling Covid-19 hotspot of Los Angeles?

And if the couple are so desperately concerned about Archie’s privacy, why name their primary charity after him? Surely this only puts the poor brat further into the public spotlight?

I had hoped that with their leaving, I would not have to keep reading their glib pronouncements in my daily trawl of the newspapers, but they are still there every day, continuing to present themselves as all-encompassing do-gooders, armed with their plethora of causes which include climate change, mental health, domestic violence and refugees?

All very worthy I suppose, but the way they carry on, it’s almost as if no other charity in the world has ever done anything of note.

Why don’t they just quietly start again in America, doing good works if they want to, making a difference and letting their philanthropic profile emerge naturally? I think we all know the answer to that – and it is embroiled in their horrible need for celebrity. The pair of them have never undersold themselves and with Archiewell they are not about to start.

I suppose he is probably a million times better than was Jeremy Corbyn but Keir Starmer, the new leader of the Labour Party is the chap who began the rot at the CPS whereby innocent men accused of sex crimes were presumed guilty on the word of a noted fantasist who now languishes in jail for his lies.

It led to prolonged anguish, loss of livelihood and in some cases wrongful imprisonment.

I can’t help wondering how on earth any male member of the Labour Party, regardless of political sympathy, could possibly have voted for him. Surely it must be a case of collective madness?

I have been incredibly fortunate during the current lockdown for the coronabug. Firstly I was holed up in the picturesque Cotswolds and now I am back on the Moor. I have not had to suffer any real hardship, but so many folk are living out this misery in cramped flats, getting on each other’s nerves, trying to keep boisterous children entertained all day, worrying themselves sick about money. Others have health problems and fear that the NHS may be too overwhelmed to treat them. I have a friend who is bedridden and in serious pain. She was due to have an operation last week but that has been indefinitely postponed and she is now frantic but there is nothing she can do except wait and put up with the pain.

And of course there are a large number of people who have elderly parents in care or nursing homes and are forbidden to see them. How must they feel? How must the parents feel for that matter?

And nobody knows when it will all end.

As we approach the end of the initial three week period, surely the situation requires a dose of common sense and proportionality from the authorities. After all, the general aim is straightforward and that is to prevent people getting too close to each other and spreading the bugs through their proximity.

Why then are the police harrying sunbathers when they are yards away from other people? Why shouldn’t people drive for more than ten minutes, given that in a car you can neither be infected by nor infect anyone? Why shouldn’t people walk on the beach or in lonely places such as the Moors?

As long as people are not congregating, why does any of it matter?

Why should relatives not fashion improvised protective clothing out of disposable material, put on disposable gloves and sit on the other side of the room to visit the sick and elderly?

And if two friends have been in isolation separately for three weeks, why should they not socialise with each other in one of their own homes, travelling by car and not meeting anyone else? We are told that we need to isolate for only two weeks to be safe from passing on the infection so where is the harm in such meetings? That is a question every unwillingly divided family must surely be asking.

I have said it before – I am neither scientist nor clinician yet I feel that I have three quarters of a century worth of common sense built up in my noggin and I really cannot understand the nitty-gritty of this lockdown.

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