Sunday, January 17, 2021

Episode XVII: I want to ride my Boris bike, I want to ride it where I like


It seems Boris can’t even get on his own bike without causing controversy. A casual seven mile bicycle ride to the Olympic Park in East London prompts a spate of questions about whether he had broken lockdown rules? Like many, the Scavenger Bird of Satire was wondering whether Boris Johnson is fit enough to cycle a 14 mile round trip? Johnson’s only previous exercise has been rugby tackling Japanese school kids and of course, infidelity. 


Luckily the Scavenger Bird of Satire was flying (a safe two meters) behind Johnson and can report back on the journey no-one is talking about.


It’s a cold, gray, gloomy day. London is in the grip of what can only be described as Teresa May weather. Boris Minister Jonhson emerges out of Downing Street. Has he got his helmet on? Behind him out of the gates comes security staff following the ‘David Cameron environmental protocol’ in a black range rover. 


The police are trying not to chuckle at the PM’s bobble hatted attempts to get fit. But as news reaches them of a ‘massive maybe-retrievable data loss’ of criminal DNA records their smiles slowly fade.


Boris starts with a swing towards parliament and past Big Ben. Turning left, Boris begins with the Thames-side cycle superhighway CS3. Boris’s sweaty look of pride in the superhighway is well placed. It is a genuinely brilliant policy of Boris’s, even if the idea was Ken Livingstone’s.


There were plenty of people on the cycle route. Didn’t they know there was a pandemic on? Don’t they know that they should be staying at home and not going for jolly day trips? Had they not seen the clear set of guidelines and contradictory actions of government Ministers? More people at the Tower of London as it flashed by. One less raven than normal though… a perilous omen for the United Kingdom. Up there with having Boris Johnson leading the government. Would any of the population survive? Would any that do stay or would they join the new Republic of Scotland? 


Boris peddled straight on. Past Shawell and Limehouse in a straight line, a look of British pluck and determinism on his face. It definitely wasn’t the most logical or efficient route but why should he turn back or change course now? ‘Onwards Christian Soldiers’ he hummed, blindly struggling on. 


Canary Wharf and the high rise financial district came into view. A happier part of London for the Tory politician. Full of future Conservaitve Lords or party donors as they were currently called. Yes, some were a little disgruntled with the lack of provisions for the financial industry in the Brexit deal but they were still making money, just wired via a new office in Berlin or Paris.


A fishy smell on the breeze announces Billingsgate market on the right. As Rees-Mogg reminded the Commons this week it was full of happy British fish. You would be happy too, slowly suffocating on a bed of ice but knowing that it would be British person tucking into your flesh rather than a French or a German. Of course if you are a British fisherman who was promised that Brexit would improve your life, you should be happy too knowing that those sneaky French won’t be paying for your exports anymore and your catch can rot on a patriotic British dock instead.


Above Boris’s bike ride, the roar of engines is heard as a plane comes into land at London City Airport. The passengers not looking quite so happy as they now have to produce a negative covid-19 test and quarantine upon landing. Some form of health screening being what travellers to any other part of the world have been used to for at least the last year. The irony being that it is the party of the hostile environment that took so long to restrict people coming into the country.


As Boris turned north up through East London towards Olympic Park he passed hospitals and schools. A gaggle of anti-vaxxers were screaming nonsense outside one clinic, Crazy Corbyn spurring them on. (On this occasion I’m referring to Piers, not Tommy or Jeremy). A group of key-worker’s teenage offspring hung about outside of a school. ‘Fuck-off knobhead’, Johnson heard someone yell as he cycled past. The Headteacher flicked the Vs at him as he turned. With a smile he reached Olympic park and celebrated with a little victory lap. Once round the park and then time to head back and he swung back into the busy London streets.


Boris wasn’t sure which street he had come down. Soon enough he was lost. But Boris Minister Johnson wasn’t one for quitting. He would still make it back in time despite being lost, riding the wrong bike and in the wrong direction, he would get there with sheer British pride and determination. The security guards pulled up beside him and with a ‘cheers chaps’ his bike was loaded in the back of the four by four and they sped back to Downing Street. If only there was a range rover to the rescue everytime his policies went in the wrong direction. Like many, the Scavenger Bird of Satire wonders whether Boris Johnson is fit enough to lead the country? Johnson’s only previous successes have been rugby tackling Japanese school kids and of course, infidelity.



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