An Englishman's home is his prison, and other proverbs for the Brexit-Covid era
OUR lives have changed, and so have the pathetic little life lessons we use in small talk. Try these 21st-century homilies:
An Englishman’s home is his prison
Proud Englishmen marching around their garden flagpoles in their garden for their daily exercise, forbidden to leave, only allowed to see family through screens: are we not all now masters of our own prisons? Except in prisons they smoke Spice and we only have drink.
A lockdown in time saves nine
Not nine lives, but nine more lockdowns. At the rate of two per year, we’re due another eight lockdowns and another 200-300 government U-turns before this pandemic is over.
Serving food spoils the child
Free food for children will only teach them they deserve to exist even if their parents have made bad choices, like jobs in the hospitality industry. They’ll only lead Britain into a bright new technological future if they’re hungry.
Vote in haste, repent at leisure
Bendy bananas, imperial measurements and blue passports all seemed great things to vote for, but apparently there’s a downside. Boris is a total legend as unsuited to battling a pandemic as Freddie Flintoff would be. And plenty of time to enjoy it.
If you don’t mask you don’t get
Security telling you to piss off when you try to enter Home Bargains maskless? Not listening to your rotating selection of whiny excuses including ‘My grandfather fought and died so we wouldn’t have to wear masks’ and ‘The string hurts my ears’?
A problem shared is a problem exponentially growing
Some burdens are best shared with others. The novel coronavirus, it turns out, isn’t one of them.