Since we’re all either looking after hospitals or stuck at home, our behavioural habits have changed significantly. Or, as I like to put it, ‘we have gone completely insane’. In itself, this is hardly something that requires fixing. In fact, we can all find some relief from our own state of cuckoo by taking a minute to giggle at the poledancing vicar routines of someone else’s utter bonkerosity. Here’s a few more unexpected blessings that we need more of right now.
Internet slowdown workarounds.
For those who live within five metres of a big green box in the middle of the street with ‘BT OpenReach’ on it, this will not be an issue. Your access to work, friends and amateur porno is probably safe, and you’re unlikely to be plagued by dependence a system that never anticipated that it might struggle under the weight of eight million livestreaming grannies and grandads who finally have a reason to figure out how to use it. Whilst I'm sure the internet gods are working on a solution, an interim workaround is a must. Efforts with the ‘read a book instead’ and ‘talk to any loved ones who live with you’ programmes have lost funding due to lack of real-world results, so we’ve had to resort to more realistic approaches. Like pigeon post, for example. You will, of course, have already spotted an inherent dilemma here: USB sticks won’t work because anyone smarter than a lime pickle is probably not going to stick an unmarked, guano-coated virus haven into their ‘puter, and conventional quill and ink, though more trustworthy, would require us to learn how to write again.
Continue with the research.
More nerds. Everywhere.
To every computer snogger standing beneath a bridge under a stormy sky, with a cardboard sign saying ‘Will Code for Food’: You’re now hired! For everything! From 3D printing stuff that keeps us alive to apps that predict when we will be dead. Now, I know we promised you the inheritance of the world some time ago, but we’ve now decided we'd rather avoid reaching the stage where the will needs to be read. So we have a couple of favours to ask: first, could you kindly ignore the stereotypes casually reinforced by everyone from the school bully to Hollywood and pretend that society actually appreciates you? And secondly, could you use your brainy superpowers to kindly postpone our impending doom? If you do, the odds of Michael Bay’s screenplay of Explodey Everything 7 resorting to basement-dwelling obesity stereotypes are likely to fall to ‘Probably’.
Sexy, sexy loungewear
Many fashion shows have been all but cancelled this year. Millions of people worldwide whose wallet habits suggested they would happily die for good clothing decided against it after all. Perhaps it’s got something to do with the fact that wearing a chessboard as a dress and doing your hair up like a cyberpunk Marge Simpson is less likely to draw likes when you’re stuck in the kitchen. And a six foot wide tutu makes great kindling if it gets too close to the hob. Some brands have actually started to push ‘Stay at Home’ collections, and I have some small suggestions. Let’s start with the Lonzie, or Lockdown Onezie. With PooFlap technology (patent pending).
Loads more lego.
Aside from its ability to assassinate your feet on your way back from your night-time weewee, lego is universally the Best Thing Ever. Over the years, we’ve had ever more specific pieces introduced, from blocks to people to people with hair to curvy spaceship cockpits. Heck, we’ve even had fully working servo-actuated programmable robotic arms, and you are legally clever if you understood more than 2 of those words. There are 2 ways out of this crisis: either time gets killed or we will. So why not do it the best time-tested way possible? And if the sets have become a little mixed up over the years, so much the better. Let the mish-mashed dioramas of Luke Skywalker battling a Dalek atop a ten storey police station commence.
More home pornos.
Seriously. Durex has reported sales have plummeted, and injecting some creativity into the bedroom/dining table/washing machine might get things going again. And there’s never been a better time to share it with the world. You will have a fun new hobby, and the many single isolators out there will definitely appreciate it. Buy the wobbliest $5 AliExpress tripod you can, mount your grainiest camera beside the corner of the bedroom or worktop, and stream the results straight to Tiktok/PornHub. And if your production threatens to verge on professional, you could dust off the old Adobe Premiere and add a terrible Eighties soundtrack for that perfect amateur feel. If the lighting is terrible enough and the pixel count stays in the double figures, you won’t have to worry about your workmates learning about your new side gig, either. If you want to really experiment, you could even try the local park. It’s exercise, officer.
James Corden, tied to a chair, every Thursday evening.
As we cower in our chosen hidey places, our screens are lit up once in a while by our favourite professional idiot. Among his various achievements include performing Les Mis on a highway crossing and crashing shopping trollies into things. He has shown the world that once in a while, the farm can produce a turnip capable of a reasonably convincing cockney accent. So when the National Theatre do their Thursday evening broadcast, why don’t they do a ‘Corden Special’ complete with zip ties and ball gag? Through the powers of augmented reality, you could prod him, slap him with a fish, or just rub his belly till he falls asleep.
More Rick and Morty.
Our supply of hand sanitiser may be improving, but prescriptions of parallel universe-driven insanity are verging on critical. For people who watch Adult Swim, Season 4 has been available for a good while. But We are the underpriveliged Netflix-watching 99%. Besides, the last couple of months has been a gift to the producers? “Well done Morty, you’ve just opened the gateway to a parallel universe where no one can touch each other or they’ll die because of a guy who ate a bat. Oh, and toilet roll is used as money. What?! Of course it’s just a simulation, Morty. Even with the 14 quadrillion possible predictions that the Portalizer is capable of, this one is just too fucking stupid to be real. Get in the ship-we’re going to the NurseryRYM system. If I can figure out who the dish REALLY ran away with, we can stop your dad from being permanently stuck as a cow orbiting the moon.”
Cards against humanity-the lockdown pack.
Physical cards are a rare thing in this day and age. Cards aimed at millennials are even rarer, and if you think that’s an ageist assumption, then you’ve definitely not played this game with your parents. If you don’t already know what cards against humanity is and you’ve read this far down this list without dropping whatever you’re looking at it with and running off screaming, then this game was made for you. What might lockdown-themed entries involve?
‘Claims that ____ can cure COVID are completely unproven, according to ____’.
Your potential responses include:
‘A facemask made from an old tampon and some sellotape’
‘Mr Blobby’
‘James Corden bunny-hopping through Walmart, screaming ‘Help me, I’m tied to a chair’, ‘The last piece of bog roll’
‘Attempting to perform home tooth extractions’
‘Being involuntarily furloughed, repeatedly, by nightfall’
‘Barry Manilow’
Pick wisely.
Wine tasting, but with everything that isn’t wine.
‘I detect a sharp, short aroma of citrus, with a big volume and notes of sweetness. Tesco value orange juice? Wow! And it says on the bottom ’15/8/2018’. That was a good year, that was. How did I guess? Well, the fact that I was drinking it straight from a cardboard cube with a hole in the top was a clue.’
Chuck in a bottle of methylated spirits and whatever else you can find beneath the sink, and who knows? The number of potential virus cures you might find is worthy of Trump's next press conference.