It's not been a great day, on the whole.
It all started around lunchtime, when I accidentally came into contact with the Daily Mail. Now I'm not saying that anyone could catch a virus from the Daily Mail. But my immune system's been a bit low. I've been taking the Vitamin Cs and fish oil. but all this working too hard has worn me down. You can't be too careful, that's all I'm saying. You've got to be very careful when handling the Daily Mail. 12% of all UK inhabitants "could be suffering from Daily Mail Virus."
That's the first symptom, of course. Putting implausible claims in quotes to distance yourself just enough to avoid embarrassment if the claims are as complete a pile of foetid dingo's kidneys as they always appeared to be. Anyway, I wandered out for a walk round the village. Saw two men getting out of their car outside the White Horse. Clearly, in my opinion, going in to ask if they could arrange the reception for their gay marriage in there - after such things are legalised by David Cameron. They were driving a large old thing - Landrover Freelander or some such. Big enough to have - oh, three or four asylum seekers in the boot, I reckon. Especially if one is smuggling gay party drugs in from Holland, and stopping off near Calais at the special 5-star hotel in which the French put up Afghan drug-lords and terrorists, as long as they promise to cause no trouble until they get to England. And one of the men looked a bit foreign.
Naturally, I rushed into the pub, shouting out "Stop! You are betraying our country by allowing foreigners to arrange same-sex marriages so as to obtain residency. Are you sure he doesn't have distemper? "45% of foreigners have canine distemper," claims health expert."
There was a nasty silence. I thought, on the whole, it was best to leave them to their turbo-shandies, "shots" and other such deadly drinks, purchased out of their dole money, but paid for by the tax I work so hard to avoid*.
Walked back up School Lane and past the school. Obviously, it's half term, and the weekend. But I bet even though they're not there, and definitely not working (having enormous holidays as they do), the teachers were busy planning the additional dumbing-down of lessons. In a proper school, each day's curriculum would be three hours' Shakespeare, three hours' adding-up and a two-hour cross-country run - through the snow - to make men of the little blighters. Instead of which they're probably getting a few hours of Tolerance Cross-Training and some Bowdlerised nursery rhymes. IT MAKES ME MAD.
Obviously, on a Saturday afternoon in an English village, there should be a fete in the grounds of the Church. (I drop the accent on the first "e" as it is clearly an effeminate foreign innovation). But no, there was nobody at all in the churchyard. Another example of Health 'n' Safety GONE MAD. The vicar - in all probability a female liberal who is converting to Hinduism and living with a same-sex partner who has brought ash tree fungus disease into the country -, has obviously stopped all fetes occurring in the graveyard until the gravestones have all been put back to perfectly straight lines, and each one surrounded by safety tape and a "Beware of Falling Gravestones" sign. She's probably locked up in the church now, pulling the pages containing "I vow to thee my country", "Jerusalem" and "Land of Hope and Glory" out of all the hymn books before having A BONFIRE OF PATRIOTISM.
Perfectly safe churchyard from which fetes are clearly banned
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I noticed that I was getting over-excited. Several veins were throbbing in my forehead. Was I, perhaps, entering the third and terminal stage of Daily Mail Virus? I wasn't sure. The irony is, of course, that Daily Mail Virus makes you convinced you've got various illnesses - maybe including Daily Mail Virus itself. I knew I needed to settle down in my best reclining chair in the conservatory, and dab the old temples with Cologne.
"According to experts", 45% of the population could have Daily Mail Virus within the next ten years. Will the Government take action? Or is this country to be over-run by reactionary hypochondriacs, convinced that Islamic fundamentalists are sneaking into this country to spread homosexual equality and exotic diseases? Let some Christian couple ban me from their bed and breakfast on the grounds that I'm not married. I'll sue their bottoms off.
* Thanks, Erika
It is obvious you are not suffering from "The Daily Mail Virus", and that your headache is merely the outward sign of your stress and concern for the safety of your fellow man.
ReplyDeleteYour open-mindedness and tolerance as ever, do you the greatest credit Archdruid.
(Sycophantic smirk in place, sneaks off to read .....)
I don't think you have Daily Mail fever, you're far too trusting. Did it not occur to you that the nasty silence in that pub happened because they're all in on it, every single benefits fraudster in that place?
ReplyDeleteErika, you're right. All the tax I avoid paying has gone towards buying the endless "shots" and Ringwood 49-er that those scroungers were drinking. I mean, at lunchtime on a Saturday, why were they not all at work?
DeleteThey were probably practicing how best to fake a disability
DeleteHave you seen the Mail on Sunday's website today? Story about Jimmy Savile groping a 19 year old girl on ToTP in 1976 - they even have a video of it so we can all join in and be disgusted and outraged together.
ReplyDeleteI was once interviewed by the Mail on Sunday. They wanted a photo and brought along their own make-up artist. I never wear make-up. They wanted me in a dress; I don't own one, but they raided the depths of my dusty rail that substitutes for a wardrobe and dug out something passable. Sat on an antique chair with our golden retriever posed aristocratically by my side I looked unrecognisable; which was probably as well.
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking that you might have Guardian virus along with the Daily Mail? Because the key infection in recognising Daily Mail virus is being infected by Guardian Virus.
ReplyDeleteThe symptoms of Guardian Virus are an acute awareness of self pity, a love affair with political correctness and public service advertising. Another is a familiarity with New Labour politics and hero worship of Ed Millipede.
There is off course, only one cure for both - you need to join the Green Party, whose common sense policies will lead to a country of pink liberals, something we all are waiting for.