Drones on the Dancefloor
To the Editor,
I write to you in a state of considerable alarm, mild amusement, and unshakable confusion regarding the peculiar events unfolding over Suffolk, Norfolk, and, oddly enough, the Strictly Come Dancing ballroom.
Russian drones allegedly buzzing around our military bases and some truly questionable voting on Saturday night’s live show — are these two incidents connected? Almost certainly not. But also, possibly, yes.
The drones, we are told, are “suspicious,” though what drones aren’t? They hover, they hum, they lurk ominously over sensitive sites as though auditioning for a low-budget spy thriller. What are they looking for? Secrets? Sheep? Directions to the nearest Greggs? We may never know.
And yet, their presence in Suffolk and Norfolk — two regions famed for their windmills and sensible people — feels less like espionage and more like a clerical error. One almost expects the drones to land, hand over a politely worded apology, and ask for a cup of tea.
Meanwhile, in the glittering arena of Strictly Come Dancing, the voting public has outdone itself with results so baffling they rival the movements of the drones. How, for example, did a man who tripped over his own feather boa score higher than a contestant who performed a perfect Viennese waltz while dressed as a chandelier?
Is this sabotage? A coded message to the drones? Or perhaps a warning that democracy, much like a salsa routine, is always a little shaky on its feet?
And yet, I find myself pondering: could these events be linked? Are the drones part of an elaborate Russian plan to infiltrate Strictly and rig the results? Is Craig Revel Horwood secretly working for MI5, armed with a paddle that only ever shows a 4? Could the cha-cha-cha be a covert signal to military bases, each hip movement spelling out classified messages in Morse code?
In the end, it’s all deeply mysterious and utterly perplexing, which, in a way, makes perfect sense. Perhaps we are meant to embrace the absurdity, to dance under the shadow of drones, and to vote chaotically, just as life itself does.
Yours in glittering confusion and aerial paranoia,
A Curious Observer of Both Drones and Dancefloors