I heaved myself out of bed this morning – oh, how I ached. I made toast and peered into the Internet. A friend I’ve known for over forty years was posting on Facebook expressing his amazement about the recent conspiracy-theory anti-lockdown, anti-masks protest in Trafalgar Square. And in doing so he opened quite the can of worms.
This got me thinking.
His post has started an epic thread of (frankly) ill-informed posts which showed how everyone is an expert based on what they have read on social media. And unfortunately the mere appearance of a statement on social media is enough to make it true for many. “Fact-checking” is so easy to do, but no one bothers. Take one of the so-called experts cited by one of the keyboard warriors to support this particular conspiracy theory. The chap in question has been exposed as a quack, but still the conspiracy theorists lap up his nonsense. People want to believe conspiracy theories. Take a very close family member for example. A highly intelligent and educated man who is absolutely convinced that 5G is radiation beamed straight out of Satan’s arse.
As a state-registered scientist myself I find it amazing that friends I’ve known for years have far more faith in what “Karen from Facebook” posts to the Internet that anything I have to say.
I find it easier to just put on the tin-foil helmet and hope for the best, all the time reminding myself that these people are allowed to vote….
Having filled my car with a whole load of tat that "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" wanted storing last night, I drove round to Ashford Lok N Store and put it into storage. Have you ever been to Ashford Lok N Store? It is a place that begs so many questions. There are no end of rooms in the place; you hire one, stick whatever you want in there, and lock it. And when you want your stuff you just go and get it (provided the front door is unlocked). No one asks any questions. You can’t help but wonder about just what is hidden behind the padlocks. Probably a load of old tat like I was putting in there…
As I loaded so another family was putting furniture into storage. Or some of them were. Two chaps were lugging stuff about with a shrieking harridan barking orders at them whilst generally getting in their (and my) way. After a few minutes the younger chap told her (rather abruptly) to shut her mouth (he then told her to actually close it so that she could no longer speak) and gave her the option to either help them, or to piss off. I didn’t actually clap, but it came close.
Once we’d unloaded my car and the van that "er indoors TM" had obtained we drove out to Margate to get even more to put into storage.
How easy it is to type that; how hard to actually do.
With my car full I then left "er indoors TM" loading her van and I took a little diversion into Ramsgate. As I was scoffing brekkie earlier Jose had sent me a message. Someone was selling a Lego cinema. It wasn’t a set I recognised, but it looked to be a bargain. I eventually found the seller’s address where a young lady (wearing little more than a skimpy dressing gown and a smile) sold me probably fifty to a hundred quid’s worth of Lego for twenty pounds. She explained that her children had grown out of it, and asked if it was for my grandchildren. I paused, and said that I supposed that they could play with it if they wanted to. She smiled at me in the way that you smile at weirdoes, and I drove back to Ashford’s Lock N Store to unload.
I got home just as "er indoors TM" got home; she hadn’t been in time to unload as Ashford Lock N Store closed at one o’clock.
The plan for the morning had been to cook up all sorts of goodies, but instead I popped over the road and got far too many crisps, and we drove down to Dymchurch where a family barby was taking place. Far too much European lager eventually numbed the pain in my back…
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