Thursday, 16 April 2020

The Book of Covidicus, Chapter 2

Continued from Chapter 1.

1. So as the plague continued to rage, Bo-sis, leader of the children of Bri-tain, formed a wondrous plan known as "Hurd Immunity".

2. This was named after the patriarch Douglas Hurd, who had reached the great age of four score and ten without falling sick.

3. And the plan was for every man to go out and cough upon his neighbour so that he should become immune.

Douglas Hurd

"I do wish people would stop coughing at me."

4. However, many people started to fall sick, and there came a new decree, that all should stay at home.

5. Bo-sis spake out, saying, "Ye may leave your houses for one hour each day to exercise. Sixty minutes may ye walk, and run, and jump. Sixty-one minutes may ye not exercise, lest the guards that are called Fuzz throw ye into the deepest dungeon.

6. Neither may ye lie down in the green pastures, lest ye be nicked.

7. Ye may go to the market to buy all that is necessary for living, such as the rare perfumes of Haan'wash, the rolls of Tai'let, and perchance also something to eat.

8. Such as milk and honey, quails, and ready-sliced manna.

9. However, keep ye four cubits distant from your neighbour at all times, that the plague jump not upon you!"

Zorro

"Ye are also counselled to wear masks for your protection."

10. Then Bo-sis forbade the gathering of the faithful to worship the Lord.

11. Instead they were counselled to go to the stream that is called Live, whereby they might see visions of the high priests worshipping without them.

12. Thus, in the hour of their death, although they might not enter Heaven, they would at least see a vision of it in the stream that is called Live.

Mass from Warrington

Celebrating Versus Webcameram.

13. It was also forbidden to baptize babies, even in the stream that is called Live, or to forgive the sins of the evil-doer.

14. Thus for several weeks the children of Bri-tain did not sin, except perchance to go out for a walk of sixty-one minutes, or to approach one another at a distance of one inch less than four cubits.

15. For they knew that forgiveness would be denied them.

16. And every evening, at the eighth hour, the people opened their windows and clapped their hands.

17. For it is written: "O clap your hands, all ye nations: shout unto the Doctors, the Nurses, the Hospital Accountants, and their Equality and Diversity Officers, with the voice of Joy."

18. But then Bo-sis himself fell sick, and the people wailed, gnashed their teeth, and rent their garments, praying for his deliverance.

19. Except for a few trolls who said "Serve him right. Woe to us that the Corbynites do not rule over us. Or this new man, he that is called Starmer."

Dominic Raab

Dominic the Raabbi acteth while Bo-sis is sick.

20. However, Bo-sis recovered from his sickness, and with a mighty cry of "Cripes! That was a near thing!" he took up his bed and walked. But only for one hour.

Continued in Chapter 3.

11 comments:

  1. Thanks-you bruvver; no-one could tell me what too meeters was; but it's 4 cubits, so much easier to visualise

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  2. Looking forward to the epilogue.

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  3. Wow! You are a great writer of wondrous deeds, no doubt divinely inspired. The Lord laughs 🤗

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  4. Didn't Pope Covid XIX read this at Mass Sunday?

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  5. Was not this Hurd he that did fail in smiting of the Serb-ites in the Wars of Bos-nia? And the Serb-ites did tell it on the mountain, saying, 'Have you Hurd? He's one of our stars!'

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  6. Good, clean fun! As in, not contaminated.

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  7. Thank God I can get the news on your blogue, Eccles! Today, just for relief from news of human disaster here in Spain, I was curious to see how the human Hurd-immunity disaster was going in UK. I turned on the Radio 4 Today programme for the first time 31 January. And turned it off after less than a minute. It was that Sarah Smith: the worst voice on radio (or maybe second after totally incomprehensible Lys Douchebag) who clearly got the job when the BBC felt sorry for the daughter of the Labour leader John Smith, who generously died to give way to Tony Blair. If I wanted to wake up to the grating vowels of some chain-smoking Scottish barmaid, I’d be a regular customer of Wetherspoons in Glasgow and start the day at 7.30 with a fried breakfast and a pint of beyond-its-sell-by-date Furry Ferret bitter with real mould, while reading Tim Martin’s propaganda newspaper saying a 50% casualty rate and a ruined economy was exactly what he and 17.4 million people had voted for in 2016, so just “Get It Done.”

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  8. Happy Easter Bruv! Am enjoying your discourses while the twitterverse is missing out on thy wisdom.

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    1. Thanks, sister. Although @bruvvereccles is no more, there is now a strangely similar @bruveccles dispensing spiritual nourishment.

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  9. Humor is good to have in times of the dusk. May the light of the sun rise again after it setteth for the throne of Emperor Covid XIX.

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  10. Thank you for the humor

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