Sadly, but almost inevitably, it looks like Christmas is about to be cancelled, as Boris Johnson caves in to pressure to plunge the country back into lockdown over the festive season.
Ministers are already warning that the rules will be strictly enforced and police chiefs are calling on members of the public to grass up their neighbours who refuse to follow the Rule of Six and other restrictions.
No pantos, no live music, no traditional carol services. It really is going to be a bleak midwinter.
As Mud once sang: ‘It’ll be lonely this Christmas.’
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So this column has put together a special, star-spangled concert, packed with Christmas favourites to keep you company during the dark days ahead.
RICHARD LITTLEJOHN:No pantos, no live music, no traditional carol services. It really is going to be a bleak midwinter
It was recorded shortly before lockdown in front of a socially-distanced audience at the London Palladium. So let the sleigh ride begin. Feel free to sing along . . .
Laydees and gennulmen, we open our show with a specially rewritten version of an international smash hit.
It’s just come out as a single, available for download, with all proceeds going to the Marcus Rashford Free School Meals campaign. Here’s Cov-Aid with…
Do They Know It’s Christmas?
It’s Christmas time
We’re supposed to be afraid
It’s Christmas time
And what a bloody mess they’ve made.
In our ‘world-class’ country
The NHS can’t cope
So all who enter here
Abandon hope.
You can’t say a prayer
They’ve closed all the churches down
It’s Christmas time
But you can’t go into town.
There’s a world outside your window
It’s a world of fear and dread
Where a kiss on the cheek can kill you
A hug can leave you dead
And the Christmas carol singers
Are nowhere to be seen
They’re banned in case they spread Covid-19.
There’ll be no joy or fun in Weston-Super-Mare
No Hogmanay in Edinburgh, too
The Government’s running scared
And so they are prepared
To stop us having Christmas time at all.
Fantastic. The hits just keep on coming. Of course, no Christmas show would be complete without our next song from Slade. Take it away Noddy
Merry Xmas Everybody
Are you banging up your head against the wall?
Are you waiting for the track and trace to call?
Are you stuck in isolation?
Have you got your PPE?
Did the end of furlough mean redundancy?
So here it is, Merry Christmas,
Nobody’s having fun,
Your kids have no future now
It’s only just begun.
Are you hoping that your marriage will survive?
That you’ll make it out of lockdown still alive?
Your granny’s in a care home
She’s locked up in her room
The only way you can talk to her is Zoom.
So here we are, Merry Christmas,
Nobody’s having fun,
Your kids have no future now
And it’s only just begun.
What are you gonna do,
When you see Chris Whitty on TV again?
Oh-no!
Are you banging up your head against the wall?
Do you think there’s sod all to it, after all?
Do you give a flying monkey’s
About the so-called Chinese plague?
Or will you take the risk that you’ll get Slayed!
So here it is, Merry Covid,
(It’s CO-VID!)
Nobody’s having fun,
Your kids have no future now
It’s time to buy a gun…
Thanks, Noddy. Now a brief look ahead to our traditional carol service, recorded a few days ago in the Strangers’ Bar at the House of Commons, shortly before last orders was called at 10pm. It features the choir of the Scientists of Sage, soloist Matt Hancock.
Good King Wenceslas can’t go out,
He’s in isolation,
If he breaks it, we’ll find out,
He’s under observation.
More of that to come in our next programme. Now, something of an exclusive. With their own reworking of a Yuletide smash written by George Michael and first recorded by Wham!, here’s a brand new supergroup formed to represent Conservative constituencies in the North of England. They call themselves Red Wall, and this is…
Last Christmas
Last Christmas, we lent you our votes
But sorry to say, you threw them away
Next year, if we’re in the Third Tier
We’ll be voting for someone different…
And finally, a very special guest star, direct from Downing Street with his very own version of that Chris Rea seasonal classic, please welcome Dominic Cummings.
I’m driving home for Christmas . . .
(Audience: GET OFF!)
Sitting in the barber’s the other day, I was trying to think who my man Harry reminded me of. He was wearing one of those transparent, whole-face visors, which look like welders’ masks.
Then it struck me.
He was the spitting image of Lady Di in her minesweeping days.
