Faking Like the Clappers

What better way to whistle up a distraction than to reintroduce the dreaded ‘clap’? An opportunity to draw out all the vacant virtue-signallers who will kick-start an orgy of sneerful shaming that swells the sycophantic masses. It’s transparent and ultimately brings fatigue, but it is one that remains in the corona-charlatan toolbox. And there is no shortage of willing dupes who are desperate to suck up a big hit of that feelgood.

Meanwhile, we’re all looking the other way from the unfolding multi-shambles of this garrulous, groupie government.

I’d rather down a COVID on the rocks while munching a syphilitic side of deep-fried anal scabs.

We would all be gagging to applaud a successful response to a pandemic that hadn’t sliced off the economy at the knees and still sent more than 100,000 pour souls to their graves, but that aspiration is whistling in the winds.

We might even retch up a clappity-clap for a Government who would fund the NHS out of care for their common man, not simply because they were backed into a corner.

Or maybe we wouldn’t.

After all, these should be the staples of any moral and competent administration. Now of course, the new normal makes an ovation for anything that sets the bare minimum as a stretch target seem eminently reasonable.

But please not this shoddy exhibitionism and the relentless pursuit of not learning lessons that will end only in a social death spiral. It does rather excoriate the will to prevail.

This is in no way a dig at Captain Sir Tom. He was clearly a fine man, who at considerably advanced years got off his backside and led from the front. Unlike the swathes of goons who remain hell-bent on snorting gear and frotting en masse with sweating strangers in repurposed warehouses.

Never forget, though, that the wedge Tom raised came from the British people. One solid mensch who served as the focal point and magnet for the magnanimity of millions.

So, for all those who appreciated the spirit of the gallant knight and the generosity of the donors who responded to the call, raise a glass to them behind closed doors.

But don’t step outside with your saucepans and scare all the neighbourhood cats just to belatedly and greedily attain a slither of the public-spiritedness that had propelled the Captain into the nation’s hearts.

Everybody will have you down as a charlatan.

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