This week were overjoyed that Lockdown Mk II will soon be at an end (although as lockdowns go it was a poor relation to Lockdown Mk I – indeed other than the fact that you couldn’t get a pint when you wanted one pretty much everything else seemed to go on as normal particularly if you knew how to game the system). Now we will have a very simple arrangement of tears – sorry tiers – which will be understood by everyone and will apply equally to all. It really is very straight forward, peasants, so make sure that you have brushed up on the detail via the government website. Now the website hasn’t been working but that is not an excuse. The Speaker of the House of Commons got very shirty about it so it’s bound to be fixed soon.
Actually who are we kidding? And more importantly who are THEY kidding? It really does look like a postcode lottery with arbitrary rules based on perceived infection rates which inform half-arsed attempts to contain a fire by use of wet tissue and the perspiration of the desperate. The mistakes and misfires to date have been legion and needn’t be repeated here. But this system really is the tiers of a clown. It really has all ended in tiers. There will be tiers before bedtime and for all we know there will be tiers in heaven (we are probably not going to get there but we’ll keep you posted).
So we will sign off this week with a goodbye with a song about tears. We are done with tiers.