We must all wear masks on buses and trains from next Monday! Hooray! No more worries about security cameras. Doris J for King!

Image of part of  a Sailing to Purgatory webpage to illustrate the article.
Easy pickings ... If we travel by public transport and go in for a spot of bovver, well, who can guess our identities now? Bloomin' thoughtful, them Tories! Thanks to the Guardian for a glimpse of a recent front page.
Come muggers and robbers and shoplifters all! It's open season!

Face up to it, the curse of criminality for a human is our face.

Isn't it a miracle that it could be like this, but of the 8,000,000,000 people on this planet, no-one looks exactly like you.

You may well be lamenting selflessly just how sad that no-one else can enjoy the benefits your facial features have brought you.

For some of us it may be rather the opposite – not, I hasten to add, that it’s a likelihood of visitors to this address.

Image of part of  a Sailing to Purgatory webpage to illustrate the article.
Hideaway ... We can conceal our features from the law at a pretty good price, as Amazon reveals.
However, face up to it, when things look bleak, and you’re feeling really bad that you couldn’t match the greed that capitalism lets characters like Virgin's Branson snatch, then Uncle Doris’s news is brilliant for you and me and for all of us.

We can hide the thing

We can go out there and hide the thing that forces us to behave – our faces.

Hooray! Now we can burgle to our hearts’ content, break into cars, snatch stuff off Harrods’ shelves, equip our homes with more toilet rolls than you’d find in a luxury hotel.

Image of part of  a Sailing to Purgatory webpage to illustrate the article.
Boo! ... How to hideaway with the latest Tory edict. Thanks to Irene Strong and model and Unsplash for the photo.
True, the requirement is for public transport, but you know humans. They won’t take the pricey objects off at the station, so you won’t need to either.

And that means we don’t have to worry any more about witnesses.

Constable-Detective:Blimey, you saw the thief at work? Describe ‘im quick.
Witness:Well, guv’, ‘e was a bloke wearing a lockdown mask you couldn’t forget. It was ‘eld in place by bits of ‘lastic fixed to ‘is ears. And it was jet black. Blacker’n black, even.
‘What else?’
‘Nuffink else, squire. The mask was amazin’. But, blimey, was it paper or cloff?’

Happily, for our criminal intent, the Tories, thoroughly familiar with ways of ripping off the poor, and us all, confirm that we must be masked in public transport.

Perfect. Borrow your kids’ toy pistols and simply help yourself to all that passengers will give you in the face of that weapon.

You behind the mask

They can’t identify you, you behind the mask.

And it’s doubly amazing considering that those of us not strict Tories might be prompted by keen consciences to give some of the loot back.

Just as with in-store cameras, and the security filming on buses and trains, we’ll know no more of the victims than their masks.

No matter how you might wish to afterwards, you simply can’t return the wallets and watches and jewellery and payday wads of cash because you won’t be able to recognise the poor old masked sufferers who handed over their possessions so readily. Oh, shame …

Thanks very much for visiting the mostly Tuesday and Thursday blogs for my adventure writing. The blogs (as they call 'em) are introduced each time on Facebook Facebook dot com/Sailingtopurgatory,

Guardian: Face masks

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