I have the cure to bird flu. Now, because I know there are a lot of scared and nervous people out there, I've devised a seemingly simple set of solutions to the issue of this pesky avian virus, and as a public service I'm willing to share them with you, dear readers.
Oh, and all the googlers who happen to stumble over this blog in a vain attempt to find a cure for a virus that only seems to be killing credit cards just at the moment, read on.
Well, with my infinite wisdom I've noticed the main flaw in the avian plan to dominate the globe. In order to die of bird flu, it seems that you have to:
A: Wait for the only probable mutation of a virus into something transmissible between humans.
B: Get sick.
C: Not get better.
As far as evil plans go, that one's pretty damn lame. No giant lasers, no curled little finger, nothing. But what do you expect from a scheme hatched by chickens?
So, there's a number of points at which we can stop these peckers from getting their plan into action.
Let's start with point A:. As it is, bird flu can be transmitted to persons who spend time in close contact with some species of fowl. Now, I don't know about you, but my only close contact with any type of fowl is usually leaning over it, and about to stuff it in my mouth. That or looking at it conveniently plastic wrapped and refrigerated.
As far as I know, no one has been infected with the virus from eating an infected bird, so that leaves us with one good solution to the problem.
Let's just eat the [cl]uckers. All of them.
Actually, that's kind of a Final Solution, and has no doubt already been suggested somewhere, but I doubt the H5N1 can survive both deep-frying and the Colonel's dozen-odd herbs and spices.
But, failing that, there is another solution.
Just don't get sick.
Seriously. Just don't get sick. IF the virus actually evolves into a form allowing it to be transmitted between humans, of which we currently have no evidence of, then the main answer is to just avoid catching it. Eventually the strain dies out and then sweet as, back to my plan number one. Lunch.
Apparently you can avoid the flu by washing your hands frequently, and being careful about touching your face after touching things like door handles and railings. Simple.
But, there are some people who do get sick easily. So, if bird flu takes off, just lock your granny in the back room with a port-a-potty and a microwave. Flick ready-to-heat meals and the occasional Earl grey teabag under the door and she'll be safe as houses.
And the last point. If you do get sick, then get better. People get fevers to kill the flu. If you get sick, stay really warm, in fact too warm (but don't overheat yourself into a stroke), and take heaps of vitamins, eat REAL lemons, and whinge to your mum.
And bugger the economy. Stay home and watch TV. The economy will recover. The Round Table might become frantic about share prices, but they can go get stuffed.
The thing is, in order to catch the flu, you have to be exposed to it. If the sick people stay home, they can't infect others.
But, what if your pesky neighbours decide to come round and check on you? What if you don't even like them, but are worried they'll turn up to pester you while you're feeling like crap?
Thing is, guard dogs don't work. One slab of gravy beef and Brutus turns into a Chihuahua.
Keeping to the theme of today's blog, there is a avian solution.
Peacocks make excellent warning alarms. And with bird flu out there, they'll scare the piss out of any nosey neighbours.
There's a bonus as well. If you don't like your neighbours, or if it becomes too much of a nuisance, you can always just chuck the peacock over the fence.
Hell, even governments do that sometimes.