Dog Eat Dog…

Pathetic fallacy is when a writer aligns the weather with the human scenario. A storm brings anger and lightening a crisis.  At the start of the dread Corona virus, the weather changed from rain to sunshine. Something beyond us has a dark sense of humour. The winter was awash with the brown flow of flooding; houses continually being inundated by avenging waters. The rain fell and fell again before falling once more and then again for good measure. People were staying indoors or venturing out in raincoats a fishing crew would appreciate. In the background there were stories of a virus running amok in some province in China. Before long, British people, who lived and worked there, were being airlifted out. This made big news, but was soon knocked off  the top-billing by the UK’s BREXIT plans.

The UK, England specifically, has a problem with the world as we secretly believe that it revolves around us. That’s certainly the case for those born-again Brexiteers who have such little regard for Johnny Foreigners who live both home and abroad. There has been a tidal wave of resentment directed against those undesirables who seem want to stand in the wave of us taking our preordained place at the head of the table. Others believe that we may get a place at the head of the table only if we consent to being the lapdog of the United States, the same federation that is now being manically driven by the chief tweeter and his odious staff. IT has put a stop to that and has made all of us think about our assumed right to be at the head of any evolutionary table. Let’s face IT, we can’t even fight off little microbes so what chance do we have when something big comes along?  It took an awful lot of people to die in Italy and then Spain for us to sit up and smell the air. Shit happens and, at the moment, it is happening to us.        

The new normality is taking its time to take a grip. People have been going about their business as if nothing was really happening. Okay, so toilet paper was in scarce supply whilst pasta was continuing to fly from the shelves before it had even settled, but beyond that, and ignoring the advice of central government, people were going about their business. On Saturday, my wife ventured into town to try to buy some supplies, a term that sounds very ‘backwoodsy’, and what she discovered was a market place that was busier that at any time she could remember. Our market town is a draw for ladies and gentlemen of the wealthy pensioner variety and it was a herd of these that descended on the town and its still open shops. It was one of those gatherings that came out of the blue ‘rinse’. That is the way of things these days, there are flash crowds fighting for whatever is deemed to be crucial at that moment. If somebody decided guano was essential to survival, there would be a colossal panic and guano sales would soar, only to be later replaced by the excrement of bulls. That way, you would get a lot more for your money but would need a much larger set of bags. 

It’s the end of the world as we know it and people are behaving as if it is the end of the world. Decorum and manners, common decency and reasonability have gone the way of the Dodo. The new world is about dogs eating dogs, cats eating cats, and the rest of humanity being offered a selection of shit.

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