March Madness

We want him to die.

And not a peaceful death, either. Something ravenous, like vultures in the desert, peeling his flesh bit by bit, leaving some for later, inflicting great pain, unendurable pain, pain that lasts forever, pain that even death cannot relieve, because death is always near but never final.

Something like that. Something with style.

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America Breaking Bad

Here’s all we really know right now:

It’s gonna take eighteen months to get through this.

That’s the time it takes to discover, test, manufacture, and distribute a vaccine.

Eighteen months.

Best case.

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Supermarket Sweep

We had planned to write something wry about March Madness being canceled this year, something to replace our annual Stinque Braquet, something fun — something unlikely to be overtaken by events.

Until we went shopping Saturday.

We shop every Saturday, stocking up for the week. The neighborhood Whole Foods was slightly odd, an empty shelf or two, employees wearing blue gloves. Out of our coffee beans this week, but that’s not unusual.

And then on to Safeway.

Which was thoroughly ransacked.

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Pandemic Etiquette

Is it polite to wish ill of my enemies?

You may harbor dark thoughts of coronavirus spreading at a contagion-denying political conference, or a presidential rally, or a trashy expensive Florida resort. Enjoy them! Life is short enough as it is, and may be shorter still if this keeps up.

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Contagion as Metaphor

The thing about coronavirus — about any disease, really — is that we know what to do.

We may not know how to prevent it. We may not know how to cure it. We may not even know how to alleviate suffering.

But we know what to do.

We know how to look for it. We know how to identify it. We know what to do about it.

We know what to do.

Problem is, we don’t do it.

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The Berniedook

Bernie is not our first choice this year.

He was our first choice four years ago, in part because he generated optimism, in part because Hillary is an untrustworthy leader (Iraq, not emails) and bad politician. You want Hillary as a Cabinet secretary, not the boss.

Bernie hasn’t worn well in the time since, so this year he’s only our second choice. And y’know, we could live with Cranky Mike if we had to, but it’s looking like we don’t, so good for us, but really, you understand what we’re facing, right? Throw up anybody who isn’t a petty treasonous tyrant, and we’re game.

All of which is to say, we don’t get the sudden freakout over Bernie Sanders.

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Savior Season

Uncle Joe isn’t gonna save us, is he?

We wanted Uncle Joe to save us. That’s who everybody said we wanted, anyway. Everybody’s worried that we don’t want Grandpa Bernie to save us, or Aunt Liz. Everybody’s worried about what we think. They think we want Uncle Joe to save us. Only Uncle Joe isn’t gonna save us.

But maybe Cranky Mike will!

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