Peter Rhodes on a worrying salute, stiff upper lips, and what became of a drunken sailor?

Sad to see friction growing between China and the UK over the Huawei affair, and the threat of a trade war. We will miss that special variety of English that goes with Chinese goods. Instructions from a digital clock I bought last week: “Press the key back 'zero' take second as the unit to account the hour afresh.” Professor Stanley Unwin, your time has come.

The statue of a Black Lives Matter demonstrator, hastily erected and then removed in Bristol, was an icon for our time – proud, defiant and positively trembling with life. But why the raised-fist Black Power salute? Tainted with violence and accused of supporting segregation, Black Power was never a progressive or inclusive movement. As a rule, when people raise straight-arm salutes, it denotes power and aggression. Alarm bells ring.

From 1892 until 1942 the Americans hailed their flag with a straight-arm salute. Then, seeing their salute being hijacked by fascist movements in Europe, the Yanks changed to another gesture. And that is why US civilians today recognise their flag neither with a normal military salute nor a straight arm but with their right hand resting over their heart. It is a solemn, inclusive and non-threatening gesture. Maybe we should try it over here.

A timely repeat of Ian Hislop's documentary Stiff Upper Lip (BBC 2) reminds us that before the Second World War broke out, experts forecast a national epidemic of mental illness among civilians caused by air raids. It didn't happen. During the 1940s Blitz, most people not only coped but behaved admirably. Yet it is almost impossible to find any report on today's pandemic which does not contain the term “mental illness,” as if our nation is teetering on the brink of some massive psychiatric crisis. Again, as in 1940, I bet it doesn't happen.

But nothing makes a collective collapse more likely than planting the idea in people's minds that they are already victims, about to be tipped over the edge by the trauma of wearing face masks or missing the pub, with the diagnosis being worn almost as a badge of pride. A few days ago a large tree fell over at a road junction in London. An eye-witness began her account: “As a person with anxiety, I was shocked and scared . . .” Two points. Firstly, shock and fear are perfectly normal reactions, not an illness. Secondly, there is no such thing as a person without anxiety.

It was reported a few days ago that a Royal Navy engineer had to be rushed to hospital after drunkenly locking one of his testicles in a faulty padlock. It was apparently part of a prank and “doctors had to use huge bolt cutters to remove the item.” I am assuming “the item” was the lock, but who knows? The poetically-gifted among you may care to compose a new verse for an old favourite: What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

I am taking a short break. Behave yourselves.