LONDON, U.K. -- The mutant virus is out of control, the country is under another national lockdown鈥攕econd, third, I鈥檝e lost track鈥攁nd it鈥檚 back to the self-administered trauma of cutting my own hair. A woodpecker comes to mind.
Welcome to Tales from Plague Island.
It only took a single word鈥攎utation鈥攆or the world to put a whole country under quarantine. This country. The one where I live and breathe behind a gauzy blue surgical mask and yell at joggers to quit huffing and spitting.
Close the borders. Ground the planes. Lock the doors. Britain鈥檚 infected by a new and surging strain of virus and you could be next Canada!
In fact, it鈥檚 already spread to more than 30 countries.
There鈥檚 a head-spinning blurriness to what鈥檚 happened in the last weeks. Boris Johnson canceled Christmas and then suddenly, there were thousands of transport trucks jamming roads to the English Channel鈥攍ike a mad dash to escape a sinking ship.
That seems so long ago now, so 2020.
Here鈥檚 an update then.
Brexit happened and the nation barely noticed, though a defiant neighbor across the street hung a European flag across his doorway.
Prime Minister Johnson called it 鈥渁n amazing moment for the country鈥� in his New Year鈥檚 address. His father Stanley announced that he was applying for a French passport. Explain that one.
The new strain of virus, named B117, swept viciously from the south of England into London where a brand new level of lockdown was imposed鈥擳ier 4.
鈥淚t鈥檚 out of control,鈥� declared the Health Secretary, rushing from talk show to talk show, scaring the hell out of people, which may have been the unstated goal.
Even so, the prime minister said with absolute certainty that schools would reopen after Christmas. The next day, he closed the schools.
I mean, what鈥檚 going on here?
Let鈥檚 accept that Johnson is a compulsive over-promiser and hates to disappoint. A man who lives in a universe of daring 鈥渕oonshots鈥� and 鈥渨orld-beating鈥� exploits.
Nor does he seem put off by the mockery and scathing reaction his multiple U-turns and broken promises inspire.
鈥淒oes the prime minister have any idea what he鈥檚 doing or where he鈥檚 going?鈥� asked the Daily Telegraph. Johnson used to be one of the paper鈥檚 star writers.
The pandemic has been like a Biblical flood on his good times parade. For the second time in a year, British hospitals are in danger of being overwhelmed.
In our bingo-land of revolving numbers, we鈥檙e told that 1 in 30 Londoners is infected. It makes you look around.
Johnson is now pledging鈥攚ith 鈥渁 fair wind in our sails鈥欌�攖hat he can deliver vaccines to the 14 million most vulnerable people by the middle of February. That鈥檚 two million a week.
Roll up your sleeves Britain, the good times parade is back.
