You can only laugh.
That Corona thing has gotten itself a foothold in Ireland and the gubmint is in a state of complete bewilderment. Except that we don’t even have a proper gubmint at the moment.
So we had an election which resulted in a three way tie. They cannot agree how to form a gubmint so we are left with a “caretaker” lot who are acting like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I’m not privy to the goings on behind the scenes but as far as I can gather, the official line is “Jayzus but we haven’t a fucking clue”.
So far the advice we have been given is to wash our hands. They also want us to stop shaking hands when we meet and to either foot-tap each other or knock elbows. You couldn’t make this up. They tell us to stay at least a meter from each other yet when it comes to public gatherings the only thing they have done is to stop a couple of rugby matches.
In just eight days time we have Paddy’s Day. Hundreds of thousands will line the streets all pushing each other forward to get a better view of the parades. The perfect petrie dish for a virus. Our gubmint’s policy? – “Well, we’ll wait and see. Ask us tomorrow”. Decision making at its finest.
Italy is in lockdown as is China. France is banning all crowds. Ireland is shrugging its shoulder and praying for a miracle.
They are now openly admitting that the final headcount of victims could be 1.9 million. That could mean over 66,000 deaths. The health system is already over capacity so we can’t look to them for any kind of help. It is going to be every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost.
Maybe the gubmint is right? Maybe the best thing to do is nothing. Let nature take its course as it has a habit of doing anyway.
Personally I’m going to rely on one of the oldest reliable protections – fumigation.
I must stock up on baccy.
They have cancelled Paddy’s Day.
Someone made a decision.
Wonders will never cease.