Dispatches from the War: give peace a chance, or give the surreal a chance?

Rioters burning buildings while wearing masks. Which masks?  Anti-COVID or anti-identification?  And if an obedient pod person wearing a bandana over his face wandering the empty streets of New York suddenly overflows with some unnamed impulse and throws a garbage can through a plate glass window, can he be doubly prosecuted for concealing his identity?  Or is his sentence mitigated because he was following the governor’s mask directive?

I understand why people are wearing masks, but WHY ARE THEY WEARING THEM, if you catch my drift.  Especially, when you’re in a store and they’re all around you in the flesh.  WHAT IS THIS?  A fashion show?  A new kind of Pride parade?  Are they all having the same hallucination?

“Excuse me, sir (speaking to the store manager), but what’s with all the…you know…”

“It’s the germ.  We’re afraid of the germ.”

“You mean one of those tiny things, of which there are maybe a hundred trillion, already in your body?”

“Right.”

I know about fear of dragons, snakes, quicksand, even the odd ghost in a closet, a bear in the woods, Hillary Clinton grinning like she just shot a full load of meth striding out on to the stage of the Democratic National Convention and telling the roaring crowd Joe Biden had to withdraw for health reasons…

These fears I understand.  But a germ?

A three ring circus happens because the owner is determined to make money, everybody knows this, but when you’re ACTUALLY AT the circus—AND WE ARE—and fat clowns are piling out of small cars and high flying acrobats in underwear are risking their lives without a net and elephants from the African plains are walking in a sawdust circle with half-naked women on board and a 50-year-old guy is turned upside down balancing his body on one finger stuck into a bowling ball, it’s surreal.

How will the surreal COVID three-ring tent show play out?  For instance, what will the end game look like for all the pod people?  Will the day come when Fauci blares a sentence through his megaphone and they all tear the cloths off their faces and run out into the sun weeping with relief and joy and dance in the grass and leap from rock to rock in bubbling brooks under holographic rainbows?

Will a man and his wife who almost killed each other in a brawl in their kitchen after he closed his café and went bankrupt suddenly regain their senses and make up and resume domestic bliss?

Will the oh-so-sensitive lockdown governors flounce down the steps of their capitol buildings and skip into the arms of adoring crowds of face-naked voters and march off to the nearest bar to pop corks on bottles of champagne?

Will reporters heap praise on President Biden for seeing it through and defeating the germ as only he could?  Will Secretary of Commerce Bernie Sanders announce that all major industries in the US are now nationalized?  Will Treasury Secretary and Microsoft CEO Satya Narayana Nadella inform the populace that a currency reset has been negotiated, all money is now digitized, and every citizen’s assets are worth sixty percent of their former value, in order to pay off the interest on the fifteen-trillion-dollar bailout?  I would see some serious surreal there.

As people keel over from the Gates RNA injection and collapse on the streets, will the Health and Human Services chief, an unnamed former leader non-leader of Seattle CHAZ, declare these deaths are stemming from the residual last-gasp efforts of the germ?

High strange, let’s face it, is unavoidable now.  Just look around you.  For a moment or two, just SEE.  The coming and going of masked robots…

Think of The Plagues of the Middle Ages.  Whatever was happening, however bad it was, the people endured.  They worked.  They strove.  They suffered.  They didn’t lock down.  They didn’t look to governors to issue shelter orders.  They didn’t wait for an answer.  There were no agencies announcing fake statistics.  It was a horror, they were in the center of it and they stayed in the center of it.  THIS, now, is a paradise, by comparison.  If little Faucis had existed then, they would have been as oysters swallowed up by skimming schools of fish without a moment’s hesitation or thought or memory.

THIS, now, this fear of the germ, is preposterous.  You want surreal?  Think of the long-term psychological and mental and physical and cultural and spiritual preparation which has led to the present population and their mincing phobic surrender.

Germophobia defined: “extreme fear of germs and obsession with cleanliness.”  How surreal are the hand sanitizer machines and their white goo?  “Yes, I’m going to defeat the hundred trillion trillion trillion germs, watch this, I push the lever and the cream oozes out…”  Watch the good little environmentalists at health food stores rub on the thick stuff.  They live in harmony with Nature.  Of course they do.  They accept Nature.  You bet.  But they want to defeat the trillion to the trillionth power germs that are everywhere in Nature.  Who educated these idiots?  When they trek through the rainforests of Costa Rica and Brazil, do they have 18-wheelers behind them filled with drums of Purell?  Or is it only when they get back to San Francisco and LA and Cambridge that they become terrified of the attack of the microbes?

What about the vaunted PCR diagnostic test?  Is it not surreal that the test has never been validated, in major studies, for the ability to turn out uniform results from lab to lab?  Clue: it’s an open secret among professionals that the PCR does, in fact, show different outcomes in different labs.  And, to add to the insanity, the test, once approved, was suddenly claimed to be a tool for determining the quantity of replicating virus in the human body—but again, no large-scale studies proved this assertion in the real world.  And it is the PCR which forms the supposed basis for counting COVID case numbers.

When it comes to surreal, it’s hard to top the fact that the original “discovery” of the new pandemic coronavirus, in China, or anywhere else in the world, was never accomplished by performing large-scale electron microscopy studies.  If any tool can approximate what viruses are doing in the body, EM photos would be the choice.  But no.  Taking tissue samples from a thousand so-called pandemic patients and examining them under the microscope was never a possibility.  Too risky.  The evidence could show there is no viral pandemic at all.  And since that evidence was never sought, the verdict is: the COVID-19 burden of proof is unmet.  The whole stage play is based on a foundation of sand.

We’re in another season of flu-like illness, against which the global engine of production, commerce, and trade has been stalled.  A collection of venal scum and petty bureaucrats you wouldn’t trust to play it straight at a nickel-dime poker table stand guard at the on-off switch.

Case closed.