Social Media Matters?

I have to be honest, I don’t know whether to Be Kind or Wash my Hands. I am sneezing into my elbow here as I write but I think it’s due more to the blossom erupting everywhere than COVID-19.

A celebrity presenter died recently. She had clearly had enough of the gutter press rags and social media backlash and her personal life seems to have descended into freefall. Suddenly we’re all experts on depression, suicide, and Facebook has become a pulpit from which to preach.

comic-characters-2026319_640

Is it me? Am I perhaps being unkind? The celeb in question was clearly distraught. However, she knew what she was doing. Anyone who decides to end it all is getting off the bus because they want to stop it. Stop the pain, stop the hurt, stop the mess their own life has become. I do know what I am talking about. She had the right to do that and I hope she is at peace.

hands-2667461_1280

However, I really object to the preachers. I am kind – I think – but I don’t need to be told to be by a keyboard warrior with a halo. It’s giving me unkind thoughts! Help someone who is homeless, spend time with a lonely person, be nice to your kids, be a faithful partner, and stay the feck off Facebook.

cold-1284030_1280

Coronavirus is making the world we live in resemble a bad disaster movie. We’re all a little paranoid. However, a €150 mask (€1.50 last week) isn’t going to do the trick, apparently, and neither is buying all the Vitamin C down in Holland and Barrett. Continue to share your tapas with those you love, kiss your kids, but stop the handshakes with strangers and wash your hands. We all know it – we’re grown up and all – but again, I don’t need Facebook to tell me. Nor do I need to read scare stories and invented ‘facts’. The viral fiction is moving faster than the infection.  Everyone’s an expert….

Maybe I should stay off Facebook….there’s an idea!

Lettuce Pray

Those words I always thought the priest uttered at Mass on soft Irish Sunday mornings – I was an almost-adult before – like many song lyrics – I realised I had it all wrong. Young folk have no idea how lucky they are that they have lyric sites at the swipe of an iPhone – and that they’re not bullied into Mass, for that matter.

salad-1710350_640.jpg

But this post is neither religious or musical, though I suspect a Mel Brooks-style treat is being hastily scribbled in the wings.

I ask you to to forget about world hunger. Begone Sub-Saharan Africa, Asia, and those irritating refugees looking for non-essentials such as shelter and water. The new kid on the block is Britain. Yes, in true OLIVER style, the begging bowl is out. The supermarkets are bare and the Sun editor is doing back-flips. It’s the scoop of the century. There is no lettuce. In February. That’s winter, right? But there’s no use whining and begging. Spain is NOT for sharing.

So, let’s consider the great #LettuceGate scandal of 2017 as a great hunger, perhaps even a Famine. Ah yes, we knew we’d have you eventually, landowners and bigwigs. You thought you could get us with our own potatoes when the chips were down.

potatoes-1585060_640

There’s a monumental disaster afoot and it’s caused by a lack of Lactuca Sativa.

What if #LettuceGate has the same consequences as the Great Famine? Starvation. Disease. Lettuce is a rich source of Vitamin K and Vitamin A. It’s a source of Folate. The National Health Service will crumble.

There’ll be mass emigration. The fact that no-one will want you is a bridge you’ll just have to cross in search of Iceberg, Cos or your next bag of Looseleaf.

What’s the solution? Rt Hon Andrea Leadsom MP might like to know that it’s possible to wait until lettuce is actually in season and grow her own.

Remember one more thing, Britain. Where did all the Irish go after An Gorta Mór? Oh yes, but now, sure, isn’t that ‘just desserts’?