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November 24, 2020

‘Tis the season of “Should”:

We should be thankful.

We should sequester.

We should not eat too much this Holiday Season.

We should have a Holiday Season.

We should be joyous that the election is over and that the plague has not killed us all.

We should.

But we eat our feelings. No one stopped smoking. Many more drank much more. Many ramped up their abuse of those who loved them. Twice as many of us have cut to the chase and ended their own lives as we do extreme efforts to lengthen our lives. We gathered, hugged, drank, coughed and fully infected others, too.

We watch a distant political replay recreate a national media show, changing the channel from a bizarre world of sweat-running mascara and the endless rambling of someone disturbingly sober. Most of us do less, see fewer who we love, are nauseated by the thought of another Zoom anything.

This is not the Winter of our Discontent, it is the Unending Season Adrift, with no paddle. The entire world is sick and getting sicker. Some are draconian in forced sequestration, others gleefully ignoring any reality beyond their own expression.

Judgment is not pretty, but it is satisfying for the judges.

And as each possible or impossible vote of about 1/2 of every human in the United States is loved or hated, we are left with no direction, no current to float in, let alone a course. Plotted by who?

No we are each islands, an archipelago of confusion and doubt, looking in one direction to The Continent of Vaccine. I have two arms, two Gluteus Maximii and so far there are 3 vaccines out there, and two more in the pipeline. Maybe I can inject my thigh.

I am ready for The Walking Dead, to try, without any consciousness, to track down Wil Smith and Escape From New York.

We are ready for this to end. But it is not ending. In the horrific Kabuki Transition to Inauguration we will sit at our comically arrayed Tables For 12, filled with 3. There will be enough food to fully consume ourselves into distraction.

But when we wake up, nothing will have changed.

Because about 200 million of us here, and 4 billion of the rest of us need to be ever so lightly infected with a thing that will forestall our death from this particular cause.

Created when a man ate a bat a year ago.

We are all having insane dreams.

This is a bad one.

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