CorvidSketch Episode IV: The War Against Corona Virus

Haven't you heard? WE ARE AT WAR!

Fighting against a microscopic enemy hiding within society. Politicians, newspapers and the twittering classes are doing their bit for the country by talking up war rhetoric and bravely using military metaphors where there is absolutely no need for them. Hand sanitiser is the new cover, gloves are the new Kevlar, gas masks are replaced with, well other sorts of masks and breathing equipment. Turns out breathing is pretty important wherever you are.

Not since the people updated their 'emotional status' to 'feelings of terror' and people took some drugs has the need for speeches, headlines and news bulletins to declare unnecessary conflict based slogans felt so great. Using healthcare and public health information to fight a medical illness just isn't enough. The war on appropriate language must be total. Careless talk has consequences and everyone must play their part.

Somewhere in Essex, Mark Francois MP is doing his bit by sandbagging his house and fixing bayonets to his hand sanitiser.

Our American cousins are protesting health measures with automatic weapons... though of course they have turned up late.

And the Times newspaper has sent their War Correspondent, Mr Doug Trench CBE to the front lines...

He finds himself hunkered down surrounded by potentially lethal pathogens at a Tesco in Chippenham. The hero of the hour is deputy store manager, Trev, who in a feat of sheer tactical brilliance has laid out a new queuing system with some duct tape. "You're the bloody hero of the hour Sergeant Trev" splutters the gushing reporter. "I s'pose" comes the shrugged reply. Such British defiance! "This will keep the enemy at bay won't it?" yells the worked up correspondent, slapping the nation's finest on the back. "Keep the what at bay?" Trev asks but we know what he does for his country. And yet the war has changed us all. Who knew that these lowly soldiers on the front lines of food production would be so key to our survival? Just like those nurses, doctors and the cleaners disinfecting our buildings from the deadly virus. Like Doug, we will never forget this vital new role they play in keeping the nation fed and healthy.

But have we gone far enough they will soon ask? Yes, we need to declare war on corona-virus rather than talking about 'public health' and 'science' but is there more we could do to ensure final victory over this foe? Do we need to start talking about leadership? Perhaps we need to mention Churchill (we only wish for Diana in peacetime). What would Winston do (that say, picking a hypothetical example out of thin air) his biographer might not be doing?

Military metaphors just aren't going to cut it, we need a Winston Churchill comparison!

And what else? We need an address to the nation from Her Majesty the Queen. We must mutter disapprovingly about those Germans! And, and, and a bleedin' Lord Kitchener poster whilst we are it.

Yes, that's it. People of Britain, your country needs you!

GO TO WAR. PROTECT THE NHS

CorvidSketch Episode III: Spare a thought for the good folk at the Oxford English Dictionary

 

While you obsessively follow the news for updates in the ongoing saga of Boris Johnson's kidnap by the scientists, spare a thought for the good folk at the Oxford English Dictionary. Though little covered, they have been un-furloughed and categorised as key workers in order to keep up with the rapidly expanding vocabulary used in the new corona-age. Here is a draft of new words and phrases they are believed to be working on.

Isolation Beard - A form of facial hair owned by a man who has reverted to his natural state away from the social judgement of his lover(s), employer and the public at large. Often warn by a man who has forgotten he has to be on a webcam in 6 minutes with the firm's global manager.

Zoom Drinks - a phenomenon involving the consumption of alcohol and witty banter over video conference, observed at around 5pm most fridays but also sometimes at weekends and the odd sneaky 2pm Tuesday. According to commentators it is either a sign that covid-19 will have very little impact on social norms or that British ingenuity conquers all challenges. Synonyms include: Skype Pints, Video Vino, Barrel aged single malt highland WhatsApp.

Grocery rage - state of anger felt by someone in a supermarket and caused by social distancing measures or unrealistic expectations of global supply chains in a pandemic.

For example:

'"How can they have no Italian capers at a time like this!" that was the fourth bout of grocery rage over capers that week.' and '"What the bloody hell do you mean you've got no more toilet roll?" , "Now sir, calm down, i think you've got a case of the grocery rage" said the patient shop assistant to the coughing man with his trolley full of toilet roll.'

Covexit - oh f*ck off... really?.. Dorian did you add this in? No one's using this phrase yet.

Ok fine, Covexit - the process of exiting this mess and heading into the next one.

No? I'm not 'taking this seriously'. Well what about this: Covexit - moment where Britain proves it is the greatest nation on earth having gained its independence from corona virus. HAPPY DORIAN? Seriously you working from home is a f*cking blessing...

Could be worse.... spare a thought for the good folk at the urban dictionary....

CorvidSketch Episode II: The Government Works from Home

 CorvidSketch Episode II: The Government Works from Home

With the government coming to the realisation that it was going to have to work from home too, the Prime Minister reassured his loyal officials that 'they were ready for anything'. Things got worse on day one when the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport's servers crashed and their efforts to lead the government's online strategy collapsed. The Ministry of Defence helpfully leapt to the rescue with a brisk salute and dusted off a plan to upgrade the entirety of Whitehall from Windows 98. Meanwhile, under lock down, Boris was struggling to keep up with his usual shenanigans. He had been stopped by the police twice coming back from visiting a saucy socialite in Kensington. Luckily he'd had the brilliant idea of pretending he was the Prime Minister on important government business, which after a round of laughter from all present had finally convinced the nice officers. It was a close shave though and he realised he should probably slow down on visits to mistress number 5, or was it 6?

Meanwhile Dom was brooding at home in the attic. He wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. What did the World Health Organisation know? 'Bloody establishment', thought the Prime Minister's Senior Adviser. Perched on a bar stool he gazed out on London from behind the long musty curtains in front of him. Were they purple or grey? Difficult to tell with just the light of his mac and an old lamp at the back of the room. He pulled the coat he was using as a dressing gown closer round him. A very useful find, who cared if he'd stolen it from a pile of sleeping bags in an underpass? And now people were moaning about supply lines, food stocks and panic buying. Surviving on his usual nutritious diet of moths and meta data, Dom was going to be just fine. Classic Dom.

The Ministers and officials themselves were having mixed success working from home. Foreign Office Minister, James Cleverly spent the first three hours in a twitter spat with Owen Jones and then rewarded himself by spending the next hour making himself an extra large club sandwich. In Warwickshire, normally-reasonably competent civil servant, Brendan Chase, plunged the entire county into darkness when he confused his 12 year old daughter's homework with emergency power supply contingency plans. And what of Jeremy? You know, Jeremy Corbyn? Remember him? He was just heading out to his allotment to check on his seedlings (Vladamir Lettuce and Fidel Tomato) when he found two suited men with dark glasses and long coats outside waiting for him. He quickly turned back inside. 'Phew, that was close,' he thought... 'I was almost Prime Minister'.....

 CorvidSketch Episode I: I love it when a plan comes together

It was all supposed to be going so well. They would get Brexit done, win the election, send Corbyn back to Cuba and the people would demand that their Prime Ministerial savior would be immortalised in a statue on Parliament Square next to grand old Churchill. Then Corona happened.What to do? What to do? This was not what he signed up for when he became prime minister.

Boris, caught by the sound of his ego quickly deflating decided to trust his trusty Dom, Dominic Cummings. The UK thus braced for the onslaught of corona by realising Dom's mantra of 'doing things differently', in this case by cocooning old people in protective layers of bullsh*t. Then two weeks later a dramatic change of strategy as Mr Johnson was kidnapped by mainstream scientists and forced to follow WHO guidelines. Even when the science operatives aren't flanking him at press conferences it is believed that they continue to maintain a hold over him with the trigger phrase, 'paternity test'. Announcing that the UK was going into lockdown the effects of logic and reason were beginning to show on the prime minister's haggered face, his normally chirpy Eton-educated chap of the people demeanor replaced with quiet bewilderment. Neither his great war time predecessor or the insurance mascot providing him with inspiration.

The Great British people faced with a sensible request to remain indoors to avoid an infectious pandemic did what they did best and flooded into the parks and into spontaneous queues in the street while stockpiling toilet roll and brewdog ipa. This being an outlet for the public's rebellious streak that absolutely no one needed. Their only hope now is that gradually Boris comes to love his scientific captors, developing a sympathy towards facts and evidence. Perhaps somewhere in between his scheduled feeding times, toilet breaks and forced video messages telling everyone that he is being treated well he may even find some time for some sensible policy decisions....

I guess we start praying...