It is the fourth week of the UK’s experimental appropriation of Bart Simpson’s “Do-What-You-Feel” Festival. Keeping yourself and others safe is now a choice rather than a requirement. “You have no idea how long we’ve waited for this” says the nightclub punter interviewed on local news, possibly living in a different universe to the rest of us who are all working to the same timescales. They called it “Freedom Day” because everything in this country must now sound as though it is woven into tapestry. It was so named to appease those that have fought restrictions at every turn, making the lives of those whose livelihoods involve implementing them hellish. The sort of people who would have you believe that their passion for the likes of Wetherspoons and Samuel Smith’s is down to a humble demureness – and yet the last 18 months has shown their true and honest deep contempt for the hospitality staff that work in those venues. It is those attitudes that created an atmos