We’re back in business. And in America, as in much of the world, humanity’s business seems to mainly consist of embracing stupidity with gusto.
“Let’s ignore the science and common sense. The weather is nice, I want to go to the beach. Let the children play, let me have a barbecue! I want a haircut, I want to go camping, it’s my goddam right to sit in a diner and spread disease, even though in normal times I’d always choose the drive through because I’m too lazy to get off my arse to eat a burger or drink my coffee.”
Not now though. Oh no…
Who cares that nearly 70,000 Americans have died so far? What about the sacrifices of the healthcare workers who still treat morons when they show up sick in their hospitals from a virus that apparently is a big old hoax?
I don’t know for sure if God hates dipshits, but I sure as heck do. The behaviour of so-called protesters around the country has been nothing short of disgusting, and they deserve what’s coming to them when people they actually care about start dying and they themselves get ill, but the problem is, we’re all going to have to pony up for the price.
The first rant I wrote in this Quarantined Thoughts series compared what we’re going through to the psychology of yo-yo dieting, and that still seems apt.
We’re all hungry as hell and looking for an excuse — even though there is no reasonable one to be had to just give up and go back to normal, because we’re not having any fun.
I get it. Sure I want to go out again, I miss beer gardens. I was looking forward to a lot of fun stuff this summer that’s just not going to happen. Most of all, though, I want to give my grandmother a big old hug. It breaks my heart to think of her by herself in her home. We are in constant contact, and she’s safe, and that’s the right and best thing, but it’s hard.
But right now, we’re at the stage where some people are convincing themselves that because they’ve not gained weight in the last week, it’s all right to tuck right into a daily dozen of doughnuts.
It reminds me of one of my favourite faerie tales, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” who strikes a bargain with the officials of a city plagued by rats to rid them of their problems. They agree, but once the problem seems to have been resolved (due to the piper having kept his part of the bargain) the officials readily go back on the promise, thinking the price was actually too high after all.
The piper’s vengeance is to exact a new and terrible price, taking away all the town’s children with the same spellbinding magic he used on the rats. Too late, the officials realize their mistake, but the price is not up for negotiation.
Here, too, the virus will dictate the price of our collective weakness and lack of fortitude in holding to a difficult — but necessary — course. I don’t doubt that in days to come we will see things get much worse as the death toll caused by #DumbFuckwittery mounts and ignorance and selfishness feed the already healthy fires of divisiveness into something much closer to open anarchy.
I’m bracing myself for a long, hot, and disturbing summer. Because we might eventually get a vaccine or treatment for COVID-19, but there really is no cure in sight for stupid.
#QuarantinedThoughts is a random series of ramblings and reflections brought about by a mild case of cabin fever. The author currently resides in an Oregon field with her bewildered British husband and “The Red Headed League” a family of Staffordshire Bull Terriers named after Sherlock Holmes characters.