On Tuesday I went to the Hospital of St. John & St. Elizabeth in London for an MRI scan. Firstly, I had to fill in a medical form. That’s understandable. What was quite incomprehensible was that a standard piece of information printed on the form for the benefit of the MRI operator was:

VIP?

In other words, was I a very important personage, due special treatment and cringing attention? An Arab Prince, perhaps? Even a King or a member of the rapidly changing Trump Administration, needing special treatment quickly before being fired?

Naturally, I crossed out the ” No”, put there by the receptionist, and wrote “Yes”. I must be important to someone, even if I am a member of the hoi polloi.

Isn’t that just dreadful? Is it not an outward manifestation of how very unequal we are now? The innards of a King, after all, bear a striking resemblance to my own, or so I assume.