The editor of this publication has asked me to write a short essay about how things are going here in the United States with the coronavirus pandemic.
Are we okay, how’s it going, is it true that everybody except 11 recluses who live in a treehouse in Montana have the virus now, or what?
The answer to all of these questions is: AUGHHHHHHH.
We are not okay. We are not okay. All manner of things shall not be okay.
Some of us are still alive, it’s true; but those who are halfway wish we were not, because now we have to figure out if it makes sense to send our kids back to school or not, because they really do have to learn something at some point; but on the other hand: AUGHHHHHHHH.
Most countries would feel that, since the virus is frightening and dangerous and relatively new, that’s enough to handle, and we can probably find sufficient reason to be upset with that information alone.
But Americans are go-getters. We’re never satisfied with the bare minimum. We’re always turning up the volume, cranking up the heat, amping up the juice, and putting more and more slices of cheese on the already enormous quadruple stacked juicy burger of AUGHHHHHHH.
So let’s say we want to leave our house to buy a loaf of bread. Let’s say we wish to venture into an office building to get some work done.
Let’s say we are considering sending our children into a school with dozens or hundreds or thousands of other children right when the weather is going to turn cold soon, and we don’t really have any reliable information about what long-term effect the virus will have on their developing body systems.
Surely one easy way to mitigate some of the danger is to wear masks whenever possible, right? There are mountains of evidence showing that masks help prevent the spread of the virus. Easy peasy! Mask it up.
But wait. You forget. We are Americans.
Even better, we are American Catholics, and that means we have whipped up for ourselves a bottomless vat of unnecessary suffering and stupidity, which we intend to slather on each other for the foreseeable future, until everybody except eleven recluses who live in a treehouse in Montana has the virus; and in this way, we will show glory to God and to our founding fathers, because our saving Lord and our boys in blue didn’t die face down in the mud of Vietnam just so we could betray their memories by not licking each other while setting off fireworks, dammit! The reason you don’t get these jokes is not because you’re Australian.
It’s because they’re not funny. None of this is funny. We are all going to die like Americans; which is to say, not with a bang, but an AUGHHHHHHHH.
and finally . . .
Mark of the beast? More like MASK of the beast, Q.E.D.
Oh, and our president supports a doctor who says masks are unnecessary and who also says that endometriosis is caused by accidentally having sex with demons in your sleep.
Also, masks are uncomfortable.
We are not okay. Thanks for asking. We are not okay.
Sincerely, Americans