The word “alert” can be an adjective, or a noun.  As an adjective my dictionary defines it  as “watchful, vigilant, lively, nimble.”  It is not possible to be both “lively” and dead, so that is a bit of a relief.

The idea of being “watchful and nimble” in avoiding the virus is simply bizarre.

The dictionary adds that alert can also be used in the sense of “on the look out.”  Imagine it:  there you are walking round the supermarket; suddenly  in a far aisle you see it, a virus, whizzing past the cornflakes, heading for the cheese, veering over soup and round the milk.  Chuck a carrot at it, and scarper.    Dodge behind the broccoli, quick as you can, and lose it in the asparagus.

Biggles could have done it.  If some fiendish foe had threatened him with a deadly virus it would have been lying trussed, at the bottom of a freezer in seconds.

For weeks now the experts have been telling us that government advice, instructions, call them what you will, should be clear, unambiguous and responsible.  In one word the Flatulent Leader has screwed it up.  You only have to look at him, watchfully or not,  to see the embodiment of the word “mess.”