Dr Donald has been back in his surgery this week offering further advice on how to combat Covid. His new prescription is the snappily named hydroxychloroquine — a medication more commonly used to treat malaria.
Side-effects include heart and liver complications.
But Dr Trump is adamant the drug is an effective and safe bulwark against the coronavirus. At a press conference he set out his case.
“I’ve been taking it for a week-and-a-half now and I’m still here. I’m still here.”
At the time of writing he still is, too.
Whether this actually proves anything is another matter. We will continue to observe Donald, the human guinea pig to see how his self-medication experiment pans out.
But who knows if the hydroxy, to use Mr Trump’s abbreviation, does indeed help ward off the virus? Scientific research will hopefully provide the answer soon.
“All I can tell you is that so far I seem to be okay,” Trump tell us (we’ll be the judge of that, Donald).
“What do you have to lose?” he adds. Umm... your life?
At least on this occasion he’s promoting an existing and tested drug, albeit unproven in terms of Covid defence.
The problem isn’t that the drug is a dud — who knows, it may well turn out to have some efficacy in combating coronavirus — it’s that he’s promoting something which has yet to be confirmed as a treatment for the virus.
And people listen to him.
Why wouldn’t they? He’s the President of the United States of America.
People routinely heed nonsense some utter nutter from down the street posts on Facebook. So why wouldn’t they be tempted to give credence to health advice from nominally the most powerful man in the world?
A sad consequence of Mr Trump’s past promotion of hydroxy, however, was that one elderly couple swayed by his comments died after consuming fish food whose ingredients contained a similar sounding compound.
No wonder, then, that another of Donald’s recent suggestions, that a fortifying shot of disinfectant might also do the trick in Covid annihilation, was greeted with such alarm by health officials.
Careless talk endangers lives. And, as we now know, also endangers electronic communications equipment.
The weirdest scapegoat amid the current pandemic has to be the poor innocent 5G mast, which was just standing there minding its own business until some looper decided to start spreading the mad theory that it was in some way responsible for the contagion.
How in heaven’s name could a phone mast pass on a virus?
It’s lunacy. But it’s led to attacks on over 70 masts throughout the UK. Not all of them 5G either.
The most shocking aspect is that engineers have also been attacked and seriously assaulted.
The conspiratists aren’t just crazy, they’re criminal.
But it’s not a new thing, this.
Some people believe that the Moon landing was faked, that aliens walk among us (well, possibly), and my all-time favourite, that the world is run by a reptilian elite (again, I could be persuaded on that one).
There are other eejits who will swear to you that aeroplane vapour trails are mind-altering substances being sprayed on us by government agencies to keep us docile (it’s obviously not working).
Where do these “theories” come from in the first place? Somebody has to start the ball rolling.
And why are others so gullible, so quick to believe the most bizarre, nutty things when surely in their heads there must be a small, nagging voice telling them: no, this can’t possibly be accurate, logical or advisable?
In the case of Covid cures, all of us want to believe there’s an answer. Fear makes people clutch at straws.
The 5G conspiracy theory comes from a darker place, however. And the sad fact is that there will always be people who believe such nonsense.
Which is why public figures, not least the US President, need to be so careful about what they’re promoting, whether legitimate but unproven medication or ingestion of household cleaning products.
Like Donald himself, there are people out there who will swallow anything.
One of the incidental pluses of lockdown — lack of anything else to do — has led us to tackle all those boring jobs around the house we’d been putting off forever. Even though, when you get down to them, it makes you realise why you put those jobs off in the first place. People have been taking to their gardens too, in many cases with quite spectacular results. My son was telling that around where he lives the gardens are all now so beautiful “it’s like Midsomer Murders”.
Grannies beware... an interesting court case from the Netherlands this week may impact on the pics you put on Facebook. A grandmother who’d been posting photos of her grandchildren had been asked by her daughter, the children’s mother, to remove them. She refused and was taken to court, which, under EU data protection rules, sided with the mother. The granny was told she’d be fined if she didn’t delete the snaps. Picture the family fall-out that’s going to cause.
Some times I think that Prince Harry’s real purpose in life is to provide us with a distraction from the cares and woes of our own current incarceration.
Outside of coronavirus there aren’t a whole of other things to talk about these days.
He and Meghan have been celebrating their second wedding anniversary this week by staying home (no choice there) and being “reflective” about their “epic” year.
Epic for all of us, actually...
To recap. They vacated Frogmore and spurned the royal family (and more importantly, the taxpayers who have been paying to keep them in clover).
They then spent some time in a multi-million pound mansion in Vancouver before relocating to their current billet, another eye-wateringly expensive “Tuscan villa” in Malibu.
And how busy they’ve been!
Making plans for their new charitable venture which will cement their roles as the greatest humanitarians ever in the history of humanitarianism. Plus checking out voiceover work for Meghan, public speaking opportunities for Harry and looking forward to publication of the upcoming book about their brave escape from the House of Windsor.
The book is reportedly called Finding Freedom. Not to be confused with Finding Freebies.
In a world in which almost the entire global population has been in some form of lock-up for months, you do wonder how much will this story of suffering in palatial grandeur will resonate with the masses.
And if Harry and Megs were really so keen on breaking free from royal protocol and all that horrid stuffy formality, how come they’ve hung on to the Duke and Duchess titles?