Back To The Beginning 1: In The Shadow Of Spring

And so March returns. Not as immediately spectacular as the weather of past days, but respectable nonetheless. I have, in a supreme act of tempting fate, retired my portable heater for the season. It is a surprisingly powerful one as well, but it's good to get it - literally - out of the way. Hopefully I won't need it until next Winter, but you never know.

In celebration, the Brazilian variant, the menace from Manaus, has made landfall. I thought it was already here, fighting for airspace amid our own homegrown variants. You can't come here stealing our mutagens! This is one foreigner we can all happily disapprove of. Of course, like all things this crap government does, it will be one they let in happily, probably riding on the back of some tycoon's briefcase. Ready to do a special kind of business.

Despite thousands dying, and despite the risk of this new variant (despite the border controls), Prince Philip the Racist continues to defy the Grim Reaper. Can you imagine what the media will be like when the old boy finally goes? Monarchism on steroids at a time when we need it the least. Vaseline smeared over more pressing relevant news than the inevitable demise of an extremely elderly extremely privileged extremely bigot. Could it even overshadow covid?

Whatever happens with this Brazilian variant, and the person unaccounted for testing positive (who didn't provide contact details, bizarrely), there is only one direction now. Forward. I'm not saying that's the right direction. In the coming weeks reality may provide stiff opposition, but the doors are open now. People have stepped out. They aren't going back anytime soon.