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What a year

December 30, 2020

In late February a photo Facebook threw up at me as a memory prompted me to send an email to a dead man. And I got a reply. (Turned out, like the Monty Python parrot, he wasn’t dead. He was resting.)

In late March, as a direct result of the death of Little Richard, I ended up back in touch with a man I hadn’t seen or spoken to in nearly four decades. (That turned out well, as he was the only useful bugger when I was going through the hell of switching to a Mac. Oh, and thanks to him, I have an iPhone.)

In August, when I had a pus-filled abscess the size of a ping pong ball in my mouth, I got a phone call from a cousin I hadn’t seen or heard from for longer than the Little Richard guy, informing me that, thanks to 23andme, she’d been contacted by a guy who was my half-brother.

Pretty wild, eh?

Oh, and a global pandemic raging throughout all this.

I don’t think anyone who ever had a 2020 vision ever envisioned this. (Well, other than those scientists who’ve been warning us for years – and the writer of Contagion, which was the most watched film on Netflix in March this year.)

And then, in the middle of lockdown, a Minnesota cop knelt casually and mercilessly on the neck of a man named George Floyd, whose death led to an explosion of outrage. Protests followed on every continent. And when I say “every” continent, I’m not kidding.

The crew of McMurdo Station in Antarctica.

The situation in the US was, all too predictably, further inflamed by the Tangerine Wankmaggot, who sent soldiers to confront protesters. (By contrast, in Canada, the only civilian deployment of soldiers this year was into Covid-ravaged nursing homes.)

Speaking of Canada, here’s my main take away from 2020: I am, as I have been since March, so grateful that I live on an island, which still remains Covid-free, in a province that took the pandemic more seriously than some in a country that took the pandemic more seriously than many (and unlike the poor citizenry of the United States, has universal health care and a well-established social safety net). I am so lucky.

I just want to weep when I look at my poor county, blighted by the entitled, incompetent leadership of Bojo the Clown. Not that there’s anything new about the damage he does, as I was reminded by this opinion piece in The Observer last Sunday. (Well worth a click and a read.) In it the author reflects back on George Orwell’s essay The Lion and the Unicorn, in which Orwell describes the old Etonian Tory political class of the 1920s and 1930s thus:

“What is to be expected of them is not treachery, or physical cowardice, but stupidity, unconscious sabotage, an infallible instinct for doing the wrong thing. They are not wicked, or not altogether wicked; they are merely unteachable.”

Sound familiar?

Oh, well, as we head into 2021, at least we know that on January 20 the Wankmaggot will be kicked out of the Oval Office. Yes, there is still a lot of damage he can do in the next three weeks and the devil only knows who else he will pardon on his way out the door.

And, yes, his legacy will live on in the hearts and what passes for minds of his supporters, but on January 21 this anus-mouthed prick will no longer have the nuclear codes. If 2021 offers us no more than this, that’s something.

Britain is stuck with Bojo for another four years.

When people talk about the “sixties”, they tend to forget that they (or what people mean by the term) ran over into the early seventies. Just as the pandemic will roll over into 2021. This already feels like the longest year of most of our lives. It’s going to carry on for at least a year.

Obviously my planned trip back the UK in July was cancelled. God knows when I will actually get there. Certainly not until the pubs, theatres and galleries are properly reopened. That – those proper reopenings – will be when this wild year is actually over.

From → Blog

3 Comments
  1. Donna permalink

    What a year, indeed. I’m thanking the universe for small mercies, too.

  2. John Galpin permalink

    I so wish I lived on an island too. Then I’d feel a lot safer from this Covid thing. It would also be easier for us to control our borders and eat only British fish.

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