Stranded Ovation.

Yesterday, like a lot of people, I went outside my house, stood an appropriate distance away from my neighbours, and gave the NHS a round of applause. It felt like a strange, silly, wonderful thing to do. My girlfriend, a nurse, was already at work and wouldn't hear the applause, but I clapped anyway, entering into the spirit of the thing for once. We're all hidden from each other. We're all locked down and isolated, so it was nice to have that moment of solidarity. And moreover it was important to pay tribute the front-line health professionals who are risking their own well-being every day. They are truly heroic. So I clapped, and so did other people, and it was a genuinely, moving, joyful experience. A bit awkward, a bit embarrassing, but heartfelt and, I thought, an important moment about where we are in the middle of this crisis, and about recognition of who society's key workers actually are.

I now realise now I was wrong.

Sorry.

As usual the tough guys of the internet have pointed out the folly of this nonsense and furthermore proved, with set squares and graph paper, that everyone who applauded the NHS on their doorsteps yesterday was a Tory voting hypocrite who systematically voted to steal money from nurses to give to Tim Martin from Wetherspoons, who doesn't even say thank you.

I apologise. I have been gulled. I was caught up in a moment where I thought something genuinely valuable was being recognised, a sea change in the national character, that things might actually change. We might learn to value the things that have value.

I apologise for my moment of weakness and I thank god we have those selfless, anonymous gentlemen of the internet to vigilantly remind us of the weakness and venality of humanity, and with a haste bordering on the indecent. You're the real heroes here, guys.

HANDCLAP.