I have a burgeoning theory. Connect these things: Covid 19 is a totally spurious invention, well prepared, hurts no one of working age, clears out government pension and other debt and releases trillions of savings into currency markets.

The hysterical urgent response from the world-wide monolithic media community, the leap of the elite onto the unnecessary anti-social and divisive measures for flu, shows panic about something; the peculiar response of the financial, other, and city markets has been very odd. What on earth for? The increasingly-desperate lefty liberal and hysterical denunciation of anything just sensible; the increasingly obvious desire of TPTB to continue the breaking up of the crowds in bars and elsewhere. They hate common sense from the common people. Why? Why now?

The answer is simple. Brexit looms ever closer. If you think of the world as a single entity it becomes obvious. Farage and the British are scared stiff of us again. And what’s worse it is getting ever more popular.

Now, some background. Our climate is such that we are forced into small pubs to interact and discuss in crowded, small, noisy surroundings with other half drunk, like-minded, amiable idiots wanting to be entertained.  This expands into community groups such as WI or church committees or other activities like cricket which has no other reasonable need to exist. So pubs shape our culture.

We listen to those who give us clear, simple, apparently logical answers with a pint and a fag. And then go away. Or fall over. And this may at any moment dawn on the collective idiot or malevolence known as UKIP’s NEC.

The force of the pub pronouncement is unstoppable. eg: “We want our country back”, “Stop immigration”, “We want our fish”, “f**k the ECJ”, “Elf n Safety?”, “Out Now”, “No more money”.

Next, we are seriously considering, and have already started, ‘not obeying’.  And the final panic: Government (civil service) pronouncements are being ignored, adding insult to injury.

So could it be that experts are the problem. An expert appears to be someone who knows more than me at the moment. If he can stay ahead, he remains an expert to the young and impressionable, or foolish, or just bored, or not listening, as long as nobody argues.

Have you noticed all experts have written a book?  A book is the first step, and to really be an expert, make it controversial.  Then people agree, then disagree, and before long they’re killing each other, so be careful to deny everything beforehand.

I have noticed also that most of these sorts of books have just one single lone idea. Then they pad it out with mountains of rubbish, and I mean mountains, large heaps, all to justify one sentence. With luck you can deduce ‘the idea’ from the extra bit of paper they put on the outside for added value.  A tip – nothing sells a book better than including a serial killer.  It is at this stage you begin to admire authors of novels.

The best way to become an expert is to choose a new and undiscovered truth. But seriously, instead, start a charity. You will automatically have sympathy and many remunerative interviews on BBC. The more gruesome the choice the better.

Now look at this from a different angle. Anyone over the age of 70 has knowledge and experience and at least, understanding, of working with, or close to, a group or a mass of others. This is important. It’s basic. In order to do anything, you have to do things, co-ordinated as we are told, or as habit etc.  Even in schools we understood this.

No longer. The idea of being organised or organising yourselves is now officially dead. Alien. Nobody is any longer allowed to cruise quietly in a crowd. Even in football matches we are forced onto seats.  We understood the concept of being alone in a Millwall supporters crowd and shutting up, and not explaining a foul.

At the age of 23, after uni and the army, I became an apprentice at GEC Helen Street factory in Coventry.  Four echoing floors, each containing long tables and hundreds of high chairs, most of which had a pinny, or apron draped over it in a hurry, and many with a badly battered rudimentary cushion.  There were many open windows and dotted about were gently moving male skilled engineers.  At 7.30am I was given a pep talk by the foreman – an imposing and feared personage. My duties were explained.

Between 8.45 and 9.02, 200 assorted ladies clocked in and greeted our esteemed foreman: “Morning, Fish Face,” “Out the way, Alf”, “Daft bugger.” “Edna’s not gunna be in today Alf.” But otherwise ignored. For at least an hour there was an unspeakable roar of female voices recounted last night’s doings and highlights. The thing was everyone knew what to do. Nobody needed to shout. There was only me – appalled.  Somebody switched a radio on, some started singing. The foreman went back into his little office. One or two took the mickey out of me, several suggestive suggestions were made and I hastily followed the foreman.

In the army I had been organised. This was different. Not necessarily better, just different. In what way? I couldn’t tell. So I went out on the shop floor to try and find out. A window slammed shut, followed by a male complaint. Followed by more windows shutting and ladies cat-calling and men answering.

Danger, danger! Alf the foreman leans forward without hurry and switches the loudspeakers to on to “Workers Playtime”, which gradually soothes them and all start singing. During the next few weeks, I suppose they felt motherly to me, as I was young and clever and from the Army, and an engineer.  I got to know everyone.  Astonishingly, they were organised informally amongst themselves.

Alf understood, and was personally organised himself, and with his equals and immediate superiors. These two organisations and the departmentally organised were also different.

Being old in the jobs through the hectic war years, the top management of the firm were nice people but a little disorientated I suppose, and were unaware, and the conscientious objectors who were morphed into union activists ran riot until coming up against Alf and his equals.

Over the years I discovered if you separate five to ten people and put them under pressure, extraordinary results can accrue.

There are several lessons here, not all of them obvious, like the bloke who talks about the reasons for the spread of Islam. He must be listened to. He actually understands viscerally and intellectually but is unfortunately not good at passing on the info.

I left GEC a few years later but before leaving I got to meet the boss himself a couple of times and was able to ask about how he ran a business that employed a quarter of a million people. This adds another dimension to which I have added running other large or diverse businesses which all have to be run if not necessarily organised.

Generally, proper experts do NOT know. They are busy, thank you

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