Saturday, February 29, 2020

Laughter, the best medicine

It's a dark time.  We just have to get used to it, and laugh.  Hard.

An Instagram "influencer" -- someone who apparently makes a living getting idiots to buy and like shit by mentioning it on Instagram -- was having a pool party in Moscow for her twenty-ninth birthday, old enough to know better, you'd have thought.  One of her coterie thought it would be visually impressive to dump dry ice in the pool.  People in the water began to choke and pass out, and three of them died, including the birthday girl's husband.  The mother of two -- oh, good grief -- sprang into action, posting a video message to her one million followers.  So expect more of this.

Trumpanzees, meet Brexiteers.  They're angry because the storm currently affecting Britain had to go through Spain first, where meteorologists named it Jorge.  Bloody foreign names!  You can't make this up.

Certain states will not allow public officials to use the phrase "climate change" or "global warming."  British officials, similarly, have been ordered not to use "no-deal Brexit" to describe the no-deal Brexit engineered by Boris "Sir Winston Who?" Johnson.  This is the Dickensian circumlocution they have to use instead.

Because what you call things is more important than reality.  Anyplace Democrats hold a caucus or primary, this creature Trump shows up the night before to harangue the "very fine people" who burn churches and drive into crowds.  He has decided the COVID-19 epidemic is a "hoax," one of his favorite words for anything that displeases him.  Yesterday the hoax killed a nineteen-year-old patient in Kirkland, Washington, and South Korea reported 813 new hoax cases.  

Instead of Rikers Island, convicted rapist Harvey Weinstein is in Bellevue Hospital.  I guess the walker was pretty convincing.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez tweeted that with the possible exception of Pastor Hamm (of the Kentucky dinosaur "museum"), Mike Pence is the worst person to lead the Coronavirus fight.  This elicited an angry retort from Ted Cruz, challenging her to define a Y chromosome.  Either he thinks the virus is sex-specific, or he really doesn't know.  She brushed him off like a drugged housefly.  Of course, Ted's party thinks the Y chromosome confers the right to speak, act and lead.  They're a little covfefe about that.

When last we saw South Carolina senatorial candidate Jamie Harrison, the local Fox station was mixing him up with a female shoplifting suspect.  Now Chris Matthews has confused him with Senator Tim Scott.  A week ago Matthews compared Bernie Sanders's victory in Nevada to the German conquest of France in 1940.  It may be time for Chris to retire and write his next book, Another Genuflection To Camelot.

Samuel Beckett would feckin' love this.

As for Trump, he did what any responsible person does during an epidemic.  He convened a summit of Candace Owens, Diamond and Silk.  (We've had a female Dr. Who and female Ghostbusters -- it was time for the female Amos, Andy and the Kingfish.)  After receiving their praise, he declared the emergy just about over:  "It's going to disappear, one day it's like a miracle, it will disappear, and from our shores, we've, you know, it could get worse before it gets better, it could maybe go away, we'll see what happens," etc., etc.  Mostly he was focused on a theatrical production based on the romantic emails of Peter Strzok and Lisa Page, who have obsessed him for months.  He has also begun tweeting with quotation marks around his own name, but it probably isn't a symptom of anything.  Mick Mulvaney swears that Trump barely sleeps, not from pharmaceuticals or a bad conscience -- a Trump with a conscience, as if! -- but because of his "great genes."  He simply does not need what every human requires to avoid psychosis.

Perhaps I've said too much.  Laugh, damn it!


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