
If nothing else, I marvel at this: this ruined spire, which could once rival those in leafy Oxford; this decrepit office, once boasting toasting, tweeting triumphs, when toasting and tweeting were the toasts of the town and the tweets of the twitter, well before the great AI propaganda machine in the cloud bent it's churning compute on churning the tweet tags from black to white to distract from the long lines of lonely coffins bare of pall bearers and mask their grieving, knelt in single plague-locked places, far departed from the subject of their grief; this scheming crow upon his shoulder crowing in his ear, clearly unconcerned at masquerading in the plague doctor's mask after picking at the milky eyes of the victims and rousing the mob to splash blood red crosses on the doors of those who won't get with the program. If nothing else, at this I abide.
Boris Johnson, politician and sometime journalist, appears to abandon all sense and discard any integrity he ever had in order to sell out his country live on national television defending the indefensible, today in 2020 amid the calamity of 35000 deaths in the UK due to COVID-19.
Two rotten peas in the same pod, they disgust me.
100,000 deaths in the US
It made no sense to destroy the UK based on bad science.
The elderly and infirm should have been quarantined. Not the strong.