Monday 4 May 2020
Church bells have fallen silent
I am not sure that being hacked is something of which I should be proud. That said, the event has just happened. My site went down, the text was corrupted, and every picture vanished. Thankfully, all is now corrected but for a moment I had a clear sense of loss. It was similar to that feeling when I have left my mobile behind, or my computer has crashed, and I realise how much of my existence is digital.
When Corona Diaries was targeted, and for a while had disappeared, I felt personal affront. How dare they. How dare somebody. A bright spark somewhere, likely to be a third my age, was feeling bored and decided to have a go. At least that was my presumption. It could also be Big Brother, who would like to have me silenced. Governments around the world are determined that their actions should appear wise. My diaries hardly follow any party line, so it could be the bright spark was instructed to take me down. If that is the case, rather than being affronted, perhaps I should be proud.
The hackers have had a go
After all, the internet is the target of attack in many parts of the world, and especially when times are troubled. Guinea blocked social media on the eve of its elections, Wikipedia Farsi was blocked in Iran as coronavirus spread, and social media was disrupted in Turkey as the Idlib military crisis took hold. Big Brother clearly takes a view.
Regardless of Corona Diaries being hacked, it seems that cybercrime is rising exponentially. The Council of Europe has warned of phishing campaigns and malware distribution through seemingly genuine websites. Documents that provide advice on Covid-19 are being used to infect computers. Ransomware is shutting down healthcare facilities and sites where vaccines are being tested. There are fraud schemes that trick people to buy masks, hand sanitiser and fake medicines. Interpol has identified a large number of websites that contain terms such as Covid-19 or coronavirus, some of which are fraudulent. The UK government has produced guidelines on protection and what to do if things go sour, but all this seems to have done is encourage cybercrime to keep going.
If the hackers read these words, and I pray they do, they should be satisfied that to reinstate my site, I had to cancel two days of healthcare work, and 11 telephone calls to lonely folk whom I ring to check are in one piece. My voice is probably the only one they will hear all week, as their families have long abandoned them. None is able to go outside for fear they will contract Covid-19. To counteract the clearly damaging effects of abandonment, these people, every last one a charmer, really love to talk. Loneliness is as big a killer as obesity and as dangerous as heavy smoking. It can increase the risk of premature death by almost 30%.
Someone stuck this on my door
Another spam advertising card appeared on the front door of my apartment today, although this time it was stuck to the door with sticky tape. It was a local restaurant seeking trade and had apparently made the presumption that its spam card was not contaminated with virus. Not so trusting, I donned rubber gloves and peeled the card carefully from my door. I then dropped the thing into a nearby pavement waste bin. The restaurant calls itself Ishtar, a Turkish establishment somewhere nearby, so I called their number to complain. No answer. Frustrated, I gave it a miss and sent the image to Public Health England for their view. It escapes me how Ishtar feels it is helping with virus control.
Yet the saga also flags a problem. The hospitality sector is in trouble and is trying to tempt us back. I am in no hurry to oblige. There is certainly much talk at the moment about life after lockdown and I can sense the country is on the move. At the televised evening press briefings held by 10 Downing Street, it is evident that the use of traffic on the country’s roads is slowly increasing and the nation needs to kick some life back into its economy.
Faced with similar issues, around the world there is evidence that many countries are doing what they can to relax their lockdown rules. This may make folk feel optimistic, but I wonder for how long? There are real risks to abolishing social distancing and the only likely way of tackling this virus is through vaccination, which itself is far from assured. Antiviral medication may be an alternative, but the choices are limited. President Trump is confident of a vaccine being available by the end of this year, although such optimism is not shared by everyone.
Italy, which was the first country in the world to order a full national lockdown, is now trying to reduce some of its restrictions. Its number of deaths is at the lowest level for two months. Meanwhile, New Zealand is saying that it has had no new cases for the first time in six weeks. In contrast, Brazil has gone crazy, and its President is criticising lockdown in the face of more than 100,000 cases. China meanwhile is showing off furiously. It has declared that it has had 85 million domestic tourist trips in the first three days of its five-day May Day holiday. This has generated, the Chinese say, the equivalent of US$4.97 billion in tourism revenue.
There is a serious public relations war taking place between the USA and China at the moment. It is perhaps safer if, in the UK, we just follow the science. However, in the same way as the lockdown came in like collapsing dominoes, one country following another following another, so it is being lifted in the same way. Each country declares to its nationals how well it is doing, how it is following the science, and that it is acting independently, while everyone appears to be following everyone else. It is clearly a difficult to task to pretend to be independent while still following the herd. Some countries have got it, others have not. I have yet to decide about the UK.
They have even stopped The Archers on BBC radio
It has taken me a while to work out what has changed, apart from the entirety of my life, thanks to this pandemic and the restrictions it has required. It then struck me as obvious. Church bells. They have gone. Normally I hear them, now I do not. They are no longer being rung. For the UK, this is incredibly sad. The last time the bells fell silent was during World War 2, and now all that can be offered are radio recordings. I heard some play on the radio today and they brought a tear to my eye. There are aspects of my country that I had not realised made such an impact, but it is clear that church bells are critical, to me at least.
Perhaps even more important is The Archers, the radio programme that has held listeners spellbound since 1951. It is the most listened-to non-news programme in the country and is transmitted right around the world. The programme has now fallen silent, and with it, my nation is in disbelief. The bigwigs tell us that we may not hear it again until the end of this month. I never listen to it, unlike the up to five million people who do. Yet it is part of UK life. I know the programme is there, it is right to be there, and there is something comfortable about its existence. The fact I am not one of the five million is irrelevant. You do not need to listen to a radio programme to value it.
Roll on The Archers, let us have you back.
