The Dear Leader has requested that we all reflect on the last year, as today marks the one year anniversary of when the country I am currently stuck in went into its first (of many) lockdowns.

One year. One fucking year.

One year of dodgy models and disingenuous press conferences.

One year of the theft of hard fought for liberties, and of ever shifting goalposts for when we will get them back.

One year of shattered lives, livelihoods and and stunted futures.

One year spent minimising non-covid deaths.

One year of our lives stolen from us.

Urgh. I could go on.

Mine is a minority view, or so it would seem. Covid is a real virus of course, but it is increasingly clear that the hardship we all face now is down to government policy, not as a direct result of the virus.

Truthfully, I am not even slightly concerned about the virus these days. Do I want it? No. Of course not. But hiding inside the house, not seeing friends and family, not travelling, not doing any one of the number of things, now verboten, which give you a reason to get up in the morning, is not a way to live your life. Especially for a virus which, while serious if you’re unlucky enough to get a bad case, is far from being airborne Ebola or the Zombie plague.

We have several highly effective vaccines now, and say what you want about the government, they have at least done that right. All the elderly and vulnerable have had their dose, and death rates are plummeting as a result. All the data indicates we should really already be almost back to normal. So, why are restrictions tightening rather than relaxing? Why are we talking about internal Covid passports, mandatory vaccinations, ongoing travel bans, and masks and social distancing until 2023 or beyond?

Whenever a minister is pressed on the question of exactly when we will get our freedoms back, they always avoid the question, dissemble or deflect. The goalposts are constantly being shifted. Whenever we reach one of their arbitrary criteria, and we see the end in sight… Lucy moves the football… and the funny thing is we all know she’s going to move the football. Each time we all go along with the lie, we try convince ourselves that she won’t, and run at that football all the same. We pretend it will all be ok.

It’ll all be ok if everyone just obeys the Rules!

“The rules are simple: they lie to us, we know they’re lying, they know we know they’re lying, but they keep lying to us, and we keep pretending to believe them.” 

Elena Gorokhova, A Mountain of Crumbs

I want my God given freedoms back, if it’s all the same to you. They were never yours to take in the first place! But, the medium is the message and the message is crystal clear.

We’re not going to get our freedoms back unless we take them back.

Sadly, if the polls are to be believed, a large swathe of the population are in favour of these restrictions, and the only thing our useless opposition leader would have done different would have been to go tougher, harder and earlier… Charlie big potatoes loves to stand behind that podium. Never mind the decimation of the working classes his party ostensibly is meant to represent, ah yes, but those class traitors in the North voted the wrong way didn’t they? This was meant to be your time, wasn’t it Keir. I guess they get what they fucking deserve, don’t they?

I can only wonder what world the supporters of all this lockdown insanity are living in. I can only imagine it’s a world where they live in a comfortable house, with a comfortable family, where they can comfortably work from home. Or a world where they can play video games all day, getting fat on a year long tax payer sponsored holiday from a job they hate. Charitably, I can only imagine that the fear pumped out in the media has warped their perception of reality, and with everyone around them reflecting their emotionalism back at them, I guess I can understand.

But am I crazy? I’m looking at all the data, and the outlook is better not worse. We have a vaccine. Covid isn’t as deadly as we thought last March. We won. Well done! Take the W, Boris, and let us get back to our lives!

But no.

It seems to me that we are held captive, not by the virus, but by fear. Held captive by emotionalism. Held captive by a “safety at all costs” government, myopically obsessed with covid (and the future public enquiry), as if it was the only thing going on and the only thing anybody ever dies from. Held captive by, frankly, a bunch of hysterical pearl clutching cowards who are afraid of the fucking flu.

Bah. I’m angry, and I’m running my mouth. My blog.

Look, it looked bad back in March 2020, I get that. I got caught up in that wave of emotionalism as well. However, as more and more data came out, the outlook kept on improving… and yet, here we are. One year on, facing increasingly authoritarian measures, not a cautious and proportional response based on a realistic assessment of the threat.

If you’re vulnerable, I get it. But we have the vaccine now, and Covid isn’t the only thing that can bump off someone who’s clinically vulnerable. Nobody wants someone to die, but unfortunately that’s just a fact of being alive and mortal. If you care about someone who’s vulnerable, I get it. We all have elderly parents and grandparents, I’ve not seen mine in over a year, and given that two of my more elderly relatives are in failing health I doubt I’ll ever see them again. Nobody is saying don’t take precautions or exercise good judgement.

But honestly, for the rest of you, I’m out of sympathy. All you fit and healthy folks virtue signalling with your mask selfies. All you Karens glaring and spitting passive aggressive venom when someone dares to walk slightly too close past them on the street. All of you who are so scared to go outside, and because of that fear, want to place restrictions on other people… except of course unless they’re delivering your Amazon packages or Waitrose tender stem broccoli.

Fuck all of you. You are all cowards. You want to limit the lives and opportunities of others because you feel scared.

Sorrynotsorry, but it’s time for you to put on your Big Boy pants, harden the fuck up, and go outside.

Well, here we are again, it’s always such a pleasure. The clattering train of state, reacting with surprise that winter is a thing, is set to place us under another “lockdown”.

I’m not going to go into my feelings about this in detail here, because it has become a bit of a hot button issue – a shibboleth – taking on an almost religious dimension. For some, it’s almost as if Covid restrictions have become this strange fetish, with the word Lockdown spoken with reverence, fear, and slight sexual overtones.

Suffice it to say I think we are catastrophising, if not outright fetishising, the virus.

I think that the “only covid” tunnel vision we have at the moment is ignoring a great deal of other stuff that is going on, which is potentially more serious, if not as exciting.

I also think that the government has no right in a free society to insert itself via ministerial fiat into people’s private lives, no matter what the threat. Its claim to authority in these matters is illegitimate, and I fear we will be dealing with repercussions of inviting that particular vampire into our houses for generations to come.

But, it is what it is.

2020 has been a year on pause. For me, virtually everything I enjoy has been deemed pretty much illegal – I can’t train, I can’t travel, and while some of my friends haven’t let the Coof put them off meeting up, others have.

It has been a lonely experience, even for an introvert like me.

Your belief in the virus measures, and the narrative surrounding them, has become an article of faith for some – if you stay afraid, if you beg for more restrictions, you are Good. Moral. If you even question it, let alone point out where the Emperor has no clothes, then you are Immoral. Unclean. That is Haram.

My rather mild views on the matter have been deemed immoral and wrong, and worthy of ostracism, even by those I considered (and still do consider) friends.

It’s been really strange, and jarring. For some, anything less than full throated support is immoral. It is not simply enough to grudgingly comply with the ever changing rules… you have to believe.

It’s not enough to go about your day, living without fear, and allow other people to hide in their homes if they choose (only emerging to anxiously scurry to the shops and back, or the government authorised daily exercise)…. you have to be afraid too.

“You must affirm what I believe!”

Still, I can’t complain too much.

I can work comfortably in my home office, in a comfortable apartment. I have plenty of food. My income is, in as much as anything can be, secure. Covid hasn’t yet threatened my position in Maslow’s hierarchy.

So, I’m doing better than a lot of people in this country… as small businesses are forced to close, dreams shattered and livelihoods destroyed.

Nobody seriously believes that this is only going to be for 4 weeks. The last lockdown, “three weeks to flatten the curve”, lasted 4 months. I place bets that we won’t be out of this one until spring, and then what?

The virus isn’t going anywhere. It’s just leaning up against a lamp post smoking a cigarette, waiting for us to emerge from our bunkers. Sooner or later we are going to have to find a way to live with yet another thing on this planet that people, tragically, die from.

I wonder how many people will die of undiagnosed cancers, of heart disease, of despair, in the meantime? What will the unemployment figures will look like on the other side of this?… and yes, the economy matters. The economy is how hospitals get their drugs, and how people stay out of poverty… which is a thing that kills as assuredly as any virus.

Will it all be worth it?

Will the cure kill more than the disease?

Only time will tell.

Meanwhile, stay afraid. Because questions are Haram.

I imagine that many of you out there reading this are in the same position as me, under de facto house arrest to delay the spread of the Chinese Coronavirus, COVID-19.

As states and entire countries place their citizens under “lockdown”, we are all force to put our entire lives on hold, and weather the storm of the pandemic.

As the initial concern transforms into a slouching and mundane routine, we are all forced to consider how our lives have all changed.

I consider myself very fortunate.

For the moment, myself and everyone I care about is still healthy (and long may I hope this continues). I read the winds accurately (and am always thinking of contingencies by way of an intellectual exercise) so I had stocked up on food (and yes, even toilet paper) months before this kicked off properly.

I also work in IT, so I am able to stay in the cocooned bubble that is my home and earn a living, safely, as the world convulses outside.

So far, all my problems are distinctly first world.

I’m not on the front lines in the medical profession, police or military. I’m not even one of those poor under appreciated shlubs risking their health, on minimum wage, to sell me my food, or ship me my deliveries.

No, the worst thing so far that I have to deal with is working out what to do, now that everything I want to do has been cancelled, and all the goals that I was working towards have been put on hold for the next year or two.

Got to do what you can, and if you really look at your plans, you can still do something. You can still do some training, even if you can’t go to the gym. You can still outline plans that you can put in motion as soon as circumstances permit.

Practice your stoicism. Explore new hobbies, or get back to old ones.

Or, just do fuck all.

Edit: Youtube video link corrected to the correct author – HT Mitch Benn, go check him out!