1. Lose those Covid pounds
2. Talk in person
3. Refuse on-line options
4. Stop being such a hyper-reactive baby and remember that the world is not just about you
1. Lose those Covid pounds
2. Talk in person
3. Refuse on-line options
4. Stop being such a hyper-reactive baby and remember that the world is not just about you
I realize that I am getting older and less patient and all of that, but I am certain that people are getting weirder and more fucked up on some exponential scale. Masks are my proof. Why can’t people just wear a fucking mask? Isn’t this like wearing a shirt or pants? We figured that out when we were kids. Most of us anyway.
The point of wearing the mask to slow the spread. This is not about the people that ate paint chips on their Count Chocula. I am talking about people with brains, that accept medicine and science and humanity and all of that, and they still can’t seem to wear a mask. It’s either on their chin, especially when they’re trying to focus on their social media feed – be it dunks or pumps – or just below their nose.
How can they not understand that the issue of breathing is related to both the nose AND the mouth? Isn’t that, like, grade two bio? Anyway, I’m getting sick of these nitwits and it helps that the mask mandate is coming to end where the stupidity of the seemingly educated is so baldly on display.
I remember something and let’s say it is real. Two girls stood there explaining why they had to go into quarantine. It wasn’t their fault. Someone had sat with them at lunch and later tested positive. They stood far away from me. I told them to go to the nurse, and they did.
What does it feel like to be nowhere and have nothing? I think I know that. And still…and still…no, I don’t. Vainglorious, even if it might be on the back side of things. But that edge, that feeling of doom, of relentless meaninglessness, yeah, on the slide of scroll and pause, that is it seeping badly in.
Given the onslaught of Covid-19 variants and stupidity of too many in refusing to follow medical guidelines, it appears that abandoning my Pandemic Accomplishment posts in April was mighty premature.
Once I received my double vaccine along with so many others, I thought good times were on the way, even travelling abroad to Italy and Canada. But it was on these trips that any sense of normalcy was clearly not on the horizon. Crossing the border at Buffalo took took an additional three hours when we had to re-test at a cost of $450.
And then, when we returned to the States a week later, we were greeted by flashing lights and barriers and informed that the border was completely closed. A few nervous moments later, it was clarified that American residents were actually allowed to return.
The long and short of it is that nobody really knows what the rules are, which leads me to think that we’re going to be staying home again, writing and reading, puzzling and reflecting and of course maintaining with my Fishdom addiction. .
How stupid are these 75 million people that don’t want the vaccination? Answer: Very stupid. I am fed up with reading about “the individual’s right to decide what goes into his body” or how the conservative talk show is “regretful” when he gets the disease.
Here’s my suggestion to these 75 hundred million dummies: Ask Siri like you ask her all of your crazy-ass questions like “Is Donald Trump the smartest man ever?” or “Where can I buy a missile?” But this time ask this normal question: “How can I avoid getting Covid-19?” Any guesses on the answer?
The problem is that they believe in “I Am Legend” logic. This supposed cure for Covid-19 is the same as the cure for cancer in the movie and will actually turn us all into zombies. Just you wait and see.
The gag we keep hearing from these 75 million goofballs is that they don’t believe in science. Which of course means that they don’t believe in the sorcery of phones and computers. Yeah, I guess you could say I’m sick of this narrative.
I recently completed a six-month on-line teaching contract at a chichi Rhode Island school. The pay was not good nor was the collegiality, and I’m sure they would blame Covid for these shortcomings. This had vague validity before they sent the “small gift of appreciation”.
Three cafeteria cookies was their idea of a thoughtful gesture. What is this? Mockery? Abuse? They couldn’t send a book? I taught literature, for God’s sake, not baking.
The thing is that some people just look better with a mask on. That is just a fact.
And so, what are we going to do for them when this pandemic ends? Can’t they still keep their masks on? Or will they be shamed for that? What’s wrong with letting them do that?
I finally got out of the city for some exercise and air. Most on the trails were courteous and respectful regarding the mask. They either already had it in place or quickly slipped it on as we passed.
Others not so much.
When asked how I was doing by an older white fellow without his mask, I replied, “I would be doing better if you were wearing a mask.” His reply: “I don’t believe in that stuff.“
Further down the trail, a second man, similar age, ethnicity and lack of mask, replied with a chant, arms in the air, “Vaccinated! Vaccinated! Vaccinated!” I reminded him that I and many others still were not.
2020 was a distinctly bad year and is burned into my memory. It wasn’t just the pandemic, although that sure had a motherfucking big role. Not will I soon forget the dark days of New York’s Covid Spring, the eerie silence punctuated by the banging of pots and pans at dusk.
2020 was a lot of other bad things too.
I was attacked on a Zoom call in front of the entire faculty by an angry woman who claimed that I discriminated against black students. It didn’t matter that none of it was true nor that she knew none of the students nor even that many, including my black colleagues, called immediately afterwards to express their outrage. It was ugly and awful, and I had just been laid off. I was never given the chance to respond nor ever received an apology.
I received a call from my mother’s caretaker with the news of my mother’s death. It wasn’t sudden – it was more of a relief – but the image of the fire escape stairs and the multitude of drinks along with repeated viewing of the climax of Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro (my mother’s favorite opera) are indelible memories. As was the Zoom funeral that followed.
I had both of my knees replaced and was stuck in a hospital room with no air conditioning, the bedsheet sticking to my back. They didn’t do anything about it until a day later when they noticed that my temperature was high, and I explained the connection.
I lost ten pounds in eight days. Hospital food always lives down to its name. That would have been a good thing to remember except that I gained it all back and then some.
This Covid Pandemic is carving pieces of people away. In an attempt to maintain a semblance of normalcy through posting images, completing puzzles and asserting that all will be well, a feeling of identity loss dominates instead. Or thinking that anyway.
The need to belong somewhere – friends, family, a team or bar – has been eroded by life being moved onto the screen. This has created a sense of mutation, a half-shell of selves turned sideways into paper-thin abstractions with cartoon broken arms, modules and warts sloping out in disturbing and hopeless directions.
This isn’t a one-dimensional thing, but a sputtering prick into the bubble of self-awareness where one thinks of being half-asleep in a dream, shruggling (shrugging & struggling) with the accusations and denials of one’s most obvious flaws made obscene and dull. And it’s only getting louder.
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