My one regret at having retired from the National Health Service is that I no longer receive official circulars. I used for a time to derive a small secondary income from publishing them; and such was their idiocy that very little commentary on my part was required. They spoke for themselves; it was money for old rope.
I am glad to say, however, that old friends keep me in touch with Gogolio-Kafkaesque-Orwellian developments in Europe’s biggest employer (now that the Gulag is no more). One of them, a senior doctor, recently passed on to me an email written about him by someone rejoicing in the title of Lead Nurse Manager, sent to her superior, the Modern Matron (it is typical of the temper, and increasingly the biology, of the times that the Matron should be male), complaining that he had twice refused to remove his cufflinks, contrary to Department of Health policy and instructions with regard to these death-dealing sartorial accoutrements.
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