Monday, 17 August 2020

Week of Rain 1: After the Storm

Some good news today, oddly in the form of an unexpected brown letter. Yes, that, kind of letter. It appears my claim has been reassessed, and, in the wake of Covid, they have simply allowed my claim for ESA to continue for, I presume, another year.  That's still a big assumption, but I imagine they will cleave to their procedures where possible and, given they obviously can't (or won't) assess people in person, they aren't going to reassess my case more than they need to. I can only hope others enjoy the same good fortune. It's a strange world to wish such things, but these are strange times

I can't help wondering: would I prefer circumstances to be normal knowing that would have entailed another face to face visit. I don't really have an answer for myself. I would definitely welcome normality, though that is clearly a forlorn hope, but I can't say I'd relish another face to face. They are not a fun time. That is my evasive answer. It's not an answer. 

I see the government has u turned on the exam fiasco, hoping - probably successfully unfortunately - to rehabilitate itself. No doubt the media will expedite this process and another scandal will be dead and buried. How these scumbags get away with this is some drk alchemy. Of course this is good for the kids whose future they've ruined, but that comes down to whether this can be dealt with in time and whether universities will allow them to pick up where they left off.

My MP is John Penrose who, it appears, is willing to write and contribute to an "independent think tank" called 1828. They advocate against the NHS. In Weston super Mare, his constituency, the AnE department had to shut. I have written explicitly asking his position on the NHS. I've no doubt his reply will be the usual evasive non answer that will attempt to divert scrutiny to either what Labour did or what Corbyn would have done. Behold Corbyn's power that even in electoral death he controls the discourse. 

His wife is a Tory peer, you've heard her name, it's Dido Harding. A walking catalogue of failures: once master of internet shysters Talk Talk overseeing a data breach. She's head of the Jockey Club who managed to get the Cheltenham festival to go ahead as the virus was breaking. Now she's head of the body the government has decided should replace Public Health England for the next equally useless phase of the Track and Trace debacle. How anyone can be so in clover despite being utterly useless would ordinarily be confounding, but this is the Cummings' Conservative party here. She wasn't picked for her talents, of that you can be sure. 

And she'll be raking in the readies as a result. The whole thing stinks rotten. But then it was always going to. This will never change.

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