We went round the shops when the mask law came in and what a miserable bloody experience it was.
We didn’t wear masks, of course, and we had relatively little trouble with shopkeepers but we had more than enough trouble from sanctimonious, holier than thou customers who had probably been inspired by the `shame your neighbour’ rhetoric from Cressida Dick, a senior policewoman. If they had been on bicycles they would have doubtless worn helmets with little cameras fitted to them. They listened with surprise when I explained the facts about viruses and masks and mosquitoes and chicken-wire fencing.
I confess that I have never been good with rules. It’s something genetic and I can’t help it. At school I was always in trouble. Not for fighting but just for refusing to obey the rules. I volunteered for the army cadet force because it was compulsory, and on Fridays we had to wear a horribly itchy brown uniform and parade in the playground. It was raining one Friday so I put my blue gabardine raincoat on top of my uniform. I was shouted at by the sergeant major and made to sit in a warm classroom and read a book. It was a valuable lesson.
On another occasion we went out on an initiative test. We were dropped in a village miles from anywhere and told to answer 20 questions on a sheet of paper we were given. I stopped off at the village shop, bought a bottle of pop and a bag of something bad for me and the lady behind the counter answered all the questions for me. I then sat in a wood and watched the squirrels. I was the only one to get all twenty correct answers and the major in charge asked me why the answers on my sheet of paper were in such neat, feminine writing. I told him the truth. He was very angry. I reminded him that it was an initiative test but I got another black mark and was thrown out of the cadet force. I then had to spend every Friday afternoon sitting in the classroom reading a book. They knew how to punish someone at my school.
When I arrived at university they told me I had to join the National Union of Students. I said I didn’t want to. I didn’t know anything about the National Union of Students but I didn’t want to join because they said I had to. I quoted some human rights legislation I managed to find and they had to let me not join. It caused chaos for months.
When I went for my first hospital job, an accountant told me that the cost of my board and lodging would be deducted from my first pay cheque. I told them I preferred to give them a cheque. They said they wouldn’t do that. I said I’d go home then. They had to reorganise their accounts system.
I’ve resigned from just about every club I’ve ever been in and every job I’ve ever had. Always on a matter of principle.
I tell you all this not out of shame or pride but just to explain why I feel comfortable going the wrong way in supermarkets when they have arrows pasted on the floor. I don’t think I’ve ever gone through a customs post without having an argument with someone – and they can be nasty. I can’t help myself.
So, we went to the shops the other day and I exchanged words with just about everyone I saw. On the whole it wasn’t the staff who were the trouble. With two exceptions they didn’t seem to give a damn.
`Where’s your mask?’ asked one sales assistant.
`I haven’t got one on,’ I replied with simple honesty, though I did think of saying I was wearing one of the new invisible masks.
`Are you exempt?’
I said I was.
`What’s your health problem?’ she demanded.
I told her I thought the question was impertinent and irrelevant and intrusive. Shades of Perry Mason.
`Are you planning to discriminate against me because I have a disability?’ I asked politely.
`Shall I put down asthma?’ she asked. `That’s the usual one.’
And so I think she wrote asthma on her bit of paper.
The next time an assistant asked why I wasn’t wearing a mask I said that I was a homicidal psychopath and that my psychiatrist had told me that wearing a mask might trigger an attack.
`But I’ll wear a mask if you insist,’ I said sweetly.
`Oh no, that’s not necessary,’ said the assistant very quickly.
On the whole, it was the other customers who demanded to know where our masks were. I took the opportunity on each occasion to explain why masks are useless and dangerous and why our government is untrustworthy.
My only other strange experience was on the pavement outside the greengrocers.
`Are you waiting to go in?’ asked a young man.
`They say they’re full and I have to wait for someone to leave,’ I pointed out.
`Why?’ asked the young man, not entirely without reason.
`It’s the floor,’ I told him. `It’s weak and they’re worried that if too many people go in at once it will collapse and deposit everyone in the cellar.’
`Gosh,’ he said. `That’s terrible.’
Then, after a pause, he grinned at me. `I’m very gullible aren’t I,’ he said.
I told him I had an old lawnmower I could let him have very cheaply. `It’s an antique and probably worth thousands.’
`You can’t catch me twice,’ he said with an even bigger grin.
It’s all very silly.
But it was depressing to see so many people making themselves even more stupid by wearing masks. I saw one young fellow trying to eat a piece of cake with his mask on. He was stuffing bits of cake round the side of the mask. We saw a woman in a mask which matched her blouse. That depressed me. Wearing a mask as a fashion item is akin to slaves wearing Christian Dior outfits while picking cotton.
I saw a bookshop which had a table across the doorway with a notice saying that all customers must use the sanitiser and wear a mask. There were no customers in the shop. I thought about covering my hands with sticky sanitiser and then going into the shop and handling all the books. But I couldn’t go in because I wasn’t wearing my badge of shame, indoctrination and subservience. A bookshop, for heaven’s sake.
In one small shop someone had stuck arrows on the floor to tell us which way to go. Naturally, I went the wrong way. A masked woman, who looked like the Lone Ranger’s auntie Flo, had a mild attack of hysterics and jumped sideways into a chocolate biscuit display. One has to take one’s amusement where one can these days. We can have no mercy for those who have betrayed us.
A department store refused to take cash printed by the Bank of England so I walked out without buying anything and told an assistant to tell the manager that I had spent thousands of pounds in the establishment over the years but would not patronise them again until they reversed their policy over cash.
At a supermarket they had a huge poster telling me to be a local hero by wearing a mask. It made me want to weep. Be a slave to terrorism and you are a hero.
My personal definition of terrorism is `politics by intimidation without moral restrictions’.
And if you stop and think about it for a moment you will, I think, see that we are all currently victims of terrorism being organised by our own governments and paid for by us.
In the UK our government, which exists to serve the people, is employing the 77th brigade of the British army, which we pay for, to suppress the truth and stifle debate. How can this be legal, let alone morally defensible?
Our lives have been taken over, and are being managed in minute detail, by professional experts in wartime manipulative techniques. The laws we must obey have no basis in reality and are so extraordinarily confusing that no one can understand them. The confusion is, of course, deliberate. The virus is known to affect the frail, the sick and the chronically ill but under the law the elderly were kept prisoner, even though they might have been as fit as fiddles, whereas many of the frail, the sick and the chronically ill were all allowed out as long as they didn’t have a picnic or go bowling.
We are put under house arrest, for no logical reason, at the whim of the Government, and kept there until we are allowed out. But when we are allowed out we must keep our distance and we must walk carefully and avoid the cracks in the pavement. We must wear masks if we go into a shop or bank or restaurant but not if we go into an office. We should wear masks in our own homes but only downstairs since the virus doesn’t like heights and won’t go upstairs. If we go into a department store we must wear masks on the ground floor and in the lifts but not in the restaurant, if there is one or on the higher floors, if there are any.
You can stay in a caravan as long as it is more than 18 feet long and only two people at a time can travel in a car which is under 14 feet long. Swimmers must wear masks unless they are drowning. People must not share a mask unless they have been married for at least five years.
In stores the staff do not have to wear masks but the customers must but in restaurants the staff must wear masks but the customers do not have to. If someone goes into a takeaway wearing a mask they must take their food outside to eat it but if they enter not wearing a mask then they can eat food while sitting at a table. We must not talk to friends, sing or do anything that looks like fun. We can play tennis or cricket with one friend as long as the ball we use is wiped with a disinfectant wipe for 30 seconds every time it is handled. If we are professional sports persons we can play our sport as long as no one watches us. We can enter a place of worship if it is open, as long as we wear a mask and maintain social distancing, but there will be no services, no public worshipping and definitely no singing. We can go into a pub as long as we sit quietly and order our drinks by using our mobile phones, sit quietly at our table and give all our personal details to the person at the door. We cannot play pool, darts or dominoes or take part in quizzes. There can be no live music and we must not approach the bar at any time or for any reason. We can leave our table only to visit the loo and then only after the loo has been thoroughly cleansed and sanitised. We can have our hair cut and our nails polished but hospital physiotherapy departments are still closed. We can visit a dentist if we can find one which is open but we cannot have our teeth filled so anything aching or painful must be removed. We can go out into the streets to demonstrate for politically acceptable views but we cannot go out into the streets to demonstrate for or against the laws which prevent us leaving our homes. Social distancing laws and laws about wearing masks can be ignored if we are protesting about issues which have been endorsed by left wing politicians but not if we are protesting or campaigning about issues which have been endorsed by right wing politicians. We cannot have picnics with friends or relatives if the picnic is held on the beach, in the park or in our own gardens but we may eat by ourselves in our own homes though we may not go shopping to buy food unless we wear masks. We can jog in a park but we cannot sit on a bench to rest if we are tired. We can have sex indoors with a professional sex worker but if we have sex with a fiancé we must make sure we do it under a blanket and in a garden.
Can you spot which of that is real and which I made up? I’m not sure I can. Nothing makes any sense any more.
We are constantly being warned that there is worse to come. The coronavirus is about to mutate. When it does then it will become far more dangerous. A completely new virus is about to leap from pigs or bats or some other creature and it will kill millions, hundreds of millions or possibly billions. Those who have had the virus do not have permanent immunity and so regular vaccinations will be essential. Next winter’s flu is going to be worse than usual. They have said there is going to be much flooding and no doubt when the floods go down there will be massive fires. All this is our fault because we put up too many statues to the wrong sort of people.
We are paying our government and our civil servants to terrorise us.
In the thrall of Satan they and their acolytes are everywhere.
Our world is upside down and it is impossible to guess what will come next.
But meanwhile you and I must continue to aggravate the traitors and the collaborators. It is a war and we are the resistance.
Vernon Coleman’s book Coming Apocalypse provides an overview of the coronavirus hoax. It is available on Amazon as a paperback and an eBook.