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Sunday, 2 August 2020

The Walrus & the Carpenter



"The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright— And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night. The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sun Had got no business to be there After the day was done— "It's very rude of him," she said, "To come and spoil the fun!" The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry. You could not see a cloud because No cloud was in the sky: No birds were flying overhead— There were no birds to fly. The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand: They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: "If this were only cleared away," They said, "it would be grand!" "If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose," the Walrus said, "That they could get it clear?" "I doubt it," said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear. "0 Oysters, come and walk with us!" The Walrus did beseech. "A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach: We cannot do with more than four, To give a hand to each." The eldest Oyster looked at him, But never a word he said; The eldest Oyster winked his eye, And shook his heavy head— Meaning to say he did not choose To leave the oyster-bed. But four young Oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat— And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn't any feet. Four other Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, And more and more and more— All hopping through the frothy waves, And scrambling to the shore. The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row. "The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— Of cabbages—and kings— And why the sea is boiling hot— And whether pigs have wings." "But wait a bit," the Oysters cried, "Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, And all of us are fat!" "No hurry!" said the Carpenter. They thanked him much for that. "A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, "Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed— Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed." "But not on us!" the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. "After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!" "The night is fine," the Walrus said, "Do you admire the view? "It was so kind of you to come! And you are very nice!" The Carpenter said nothing but "Cut us another slice. I wish you were not quite so deaf— I've had to ask you twice!" "It seems a shame," the Walrus said, "To play them such a trick. After we've brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!" The Carpenter said nothing but "The butter's spread too thick!" "I weep for you," the Walrus said: "I deeply sympathize." With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes. "0 Oysters," said the Carpenter, "You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?" But answer came there none— And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one."

This is the first time that I have read Lewis Carroll's nonsense poem all the way through but it makes complete sense now in August 2020. Boris Johnson is the Walrus and Rishi Sunak is the pragmatic Carpenter sponsored by Goldman Sachs. The eldest oyster is Jeremy Corbyn who prophesied that this would happen, the Government now having to deliver on a social infrastructure investment programme (Socialism in old money) and yes you guessed it, we are the other oysters, wet behind the ears, the blue wall oysters who voted for the lies on the side of the Walrus's Bus.

We have been played boys and girls! None of us knew what Covid-19 was back when lockdown started on March 23rd and we're not much the wiser now. Because I was caring for two adults in the vulnerable category I swallowed the wash your hands to happy birthday and bang your pots and pans mantra hook line and sinker but now like a good few others I'll wager, I'm being a little bit more devil may care.

This Coronavirus is very real but this Government is an artificiality conjured up in one of Lewis Carroll's opium filled Llandudno staycations 'Doyle' style. Old Etonian Boris Johnson loves nothing more than a guffaw and a jape at somebody else's expense and because we have been so concerned about self preservation and looking after our nearest and dearest we didn't see him convulsed with laughter being led away to his ventilator. "Your Prime Minister is in danger of losing his life to this strange disease from the Orient" We shrugged our Ted Heath shoulders and hoped that the old cove would succumb but Wilfred's Dad is back in harness in the new Ealing Comedy "Walrus eats Carpenter" He turns to look at Rishi Sunak and says that "I am going to eat you next, because you know too much. I created you, now I am going to have to kill you".

Even though he wants all the genetically modified oysters to lose weight, Walrus Boris Johnson intends to go out like Mr Creosote in the Meaning of Life.   

He knows now how far the UK population can be pushed about. He wont need no water cannon when it's time for Martial Law.


3 comments:

  1. and this was scarcely odd because, it was the middle of the night. Almays darkest before dawn:)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Replies
    1. Bless you my son! Thank you for reading and commenting.

      Delete

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