It’s a video we’re familiar with by now: a presumptuous white woman lording it over someone who is black. Or, in some newer variations, brown.

“Lording” is the word we came up with when looking for a verb: Lord of the manor. I own this joint. I own this situation. I own you. Fact of life. Deal with it.

It’s the woman we were talking about the moment before we started talking about George Floyd, the woman in Central Park. It’s the woman we’ve seen many times since, so frequently that there are multiple “Karens Gone Wild” accounts on Twitter, collecting examples.

The guys we’ve seen, well, they’re usually police, fully dehumanized — and dehumanizing — in their riot gear. The women need no such protection. They’re capable of complete dehumanization in their street clothes.

“Is this your property?” asks Karen.

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It’s not like this is the first time.

We’re familiar with the murder of an unarmed black man — or woman, or child — by police, just as we’re familiar with the massacre of children — or churchgoers, or revelers — by someone with a high-capacity weapon.

These things happen. Frequently. It’s the country we live in.

Also familiar is the response: A wave of anger.

Anger, followed by frustration, followed by life, such as it is, moving on. The wave crashes on the unyielding shore, then dissipates. The moment passes.

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“Ok,” the post began, “I need to say that this is the most ASININE thing I’ve seen yet.”

The caps were not ironic. More were to follow, and quickly.

“Went to Twisters Soft Serve Icecream,” it continued, “and ordered 2 doggie cups. Then I wanted a friggin icecream cone with jimmies — nope. Not allowed.”

You probably have questions. We know we did.

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Once more, for the next civilization: The way to get through this is massive testing, hotspot identification, contact tracing, and targeted isolation. Get all that up to speed, and we can live what passes for normal lives.

We aren’t doing it that way.

We’re flying blind.

We’ll be flying blind for the duration.

We’re on our own.

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“I guess the bright side,” said the skeptical lady on Facebook, “is that 99.98% will survive this ‘pandemic’.”

You’ve seen comments like that: The resort to numbers. Here’s how many die from the flu every year. Here’s how many die in traffic accidents. Why are we making a fuss over this one? Aren’t opponents just using it as an excuse to embarrass the President? Isn’t the government just using it as an excuse to take away our freedoms?

Well, we would say at first, stating the obvious, traffic accidents aren’t lethally virulent. Well, we would say, we have shots for the flu.

Now we just play out the numbers.

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In the country of the blind, goes the saying, the one-eyed man is king.

Yeah, no.

It’s a nice saying, as such things go. Concise. You don’t have to be an all-seeing master of the universe. You just need to know more than the stupid monkey next door.

Nice thought. Totally wrong.

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Something’s not right.

Nothing new about that, of course. Something’s never been right.

But something’s not right in a way it hasn’t been not right before. Or maybe we haven’t noticed something not being right like this before.

Maybe we hadn’t been born yet.

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