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being a human-avoiding “prepper/survivalists”, this latest human-caused catastrophe isn’t likely to have a significant impact on my day-day life unless it gets all post-apocalyptic-novel-virus crazy. then who knows? since i am already a high-risk geezer, dying sooner than later ain’t no big loss to the world (whose is) except to my bitchpack. and a few distant humans who’d be sad but would soon get over it as they try to keep their unhealthy, citified selves going. i’d like to be one of the last survivors of whatever goes down (sigh, not likely in my lifetime, but one must have hope i’m told) just to see how the game changes when the playing field gets more open if not leveled.

for now, in between starting seeds for this year's food and medicine, collecting sap for maple syrup, and keeping my eyes peeled for the wild food popping out of the snow, i check internet news and forums. hilarity abounds.

competing ideologies hitting up against natural barriers of resistance. system managers tweaking this or that mandate to try and curb the spread of economic, political, social infrastructure damage. politicos pointing fingers as usual but with footstomping temper tantrums thrown in for added emphasis of their ridiculousness. charismatic talking heads selling contradicting scientific-religious advice. pundits and prophets profiting on misery again. still. always. and toilet paper shortages, that one gets me fucking-a rolling. just not on the floor, not enough room in my old trailer.

my misanthropic self agrees with some of the earlier commentators here...may all viruses grow and spread amongst the humans who had a gazillion chances and blew it every time. good riddance to all. my compassionate self (so very tiny but still too strong perhaps) wishes only the asswipes to suffer. my contemplative and curious bits look forward to how actual shit hitting the fan – even if this pandemic isn’t the “big one” - affects the idpols and academics, the boring theoreticians and philosophers. maybe they will eat their words when they get hungry enough. when trigger alerts come from a gun barrel held by quarantine enforcers rather than scary internet words.

it was a! that told me about the show, The Wire, and it flashes back to me today. a poor young kid in the mean streets selling his bossman’s white powder, “pandemic, get your pandemic over here!”