Holed Up in Hungary - Lockdown Bulletin No. 2

I woke early and thought it might be a good time to go down to the shop as nobody would be there. I was wrong and as I rushed about, heart pounding, fearful that the air was full of flying virus, grabbing paprika flavoured crisps, sour cream, a packet of tea and some eggs, forgetting what I really wanted - wine - all the people around me grew ever more sensationally dangerous, in my mind.

And all the time my face kept begging my hands to touch it. But I'm pleased to report that my hands steadfastly refused. My face was left disappointed. Why the hell is it so demanding?

Back at home, I continued to plough my way through my two Hungarian textbooks. I’ll describe them another day as they are quite amusing, each in their own way. For now, the interesting thing I've noticed is how even the vocabulary you look up while reading articles in other languages will inevitably reflect the nature of the times you’re in. Thus it is only now that I have discovered the words for sneeze; intensive care; and curfew in French, the word for corpse in Italian and the word for recuperation in German. Over the years until now, I've never felt the need for any of these and I'm extremely sorry I do now.

Some people are saying that our heightened awareness of death is giving us all a new pleasure in life. No. Wrong.

On the Twitter and poetry - well sort of poetry - front, here is a refashioned parody of Hungarian Rhapsody, a song by the band called Queen. You have to know the tune to read it with any pleasure. It has a rude bit in it (everything has a rude bit in it these days, sadly), but it is quite clever - and I'm definitely interested in creative things coming from this vile Chinese virus. The writer goes by the Twitter name of @danajaybein:

I've lost my mind.

I wrote Coronavirus Rhapsody:

Is this a sore throat?

Is this just allergies?

Caught in a lockdown

No escape from reality.

Don’t touch your eyes

Just hand sanitize quicklyyyyy

I’m just a poor boy, no job security

Because of easy spread, even though

washed your hands, laying low

I look out the window, the curve doesn’t look flatter to me, to me

mama, just killed a man

i didn’t stay inside in bed

I walked by him, now he’s dead

mama, life was so much fun

but now I’ve caught this unforgiving plague

mama, oooooh

didn’t mean to make them die

if I’m not back to work this time tomorrow

carry on, carry on as if people didn’t matter

too late, my time has come

sends shivers down my spine

body’s aching all the time

goodbye everybody, I’ve got the flu

gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

mama, oooooh

I don’t wanna die

I sometimes wish I never went out at all

I see a little silhouette of a man

what a douche, what a douche

did he even wash his hands though

security is tightening 

very very frightening me

Gotta lay low (gotta lay low)

Gotta lay low (gotta lay low)

Gotta lay low masturbate

Masturbate O O O O

I’m just a poor boy, facing mortality

HE’S JUST A POOR BOY FACING MORTALITY

spare him his life from this monstrosity

Touch your face, wash your hands, will you wash your hands?

BISMILLAH NO WE WILL NOT WASH OUR HANDS! (WASH YOUR HANDS!)

BISMILLAH NO WE WILL NOT WASH  OUR HANDS! (WASH YOUR HANDS)

BISMILLAH WE WILL NOT WASH YOUR HANDS! (WASH YOUR HANDS!)

WASH YOUR HANDS! (never, never, never wash your hands oh oh oh oh oh oh oh)

No no no no no

Oh mama mia, mia (mama mia wash your hands!)

COVID-19 has a sickness put aside for me, for me

So you think you can stop me and just shake my hand? 

So you think we can hang out and not break our plans? 

Oh baby, can’t do this with me, baby,

Just gotta stay home, just gotta stay home with my fever

oooooh

Curving can get flatter

Anyone can see

Curving can get flatter

Curving can get flatter, you’ll see

Just look out your windows….

FLATTEN THE CURVE