Saturday, March 28, 2020

Galactic Housekeeping #9 (...and Coronavirus)

Just some updates about life in general, and the Yellow Peril.

Before I begin, I would like to make three statements that will be very unpopular in many precincts.

1. Calling the current pandemic the "Wuhan Virus" or "Chinese Flu" or other such stuff is NOT racist.

It is a reflection of the fact that the virus a) originated in Wuhan and that b) Wuhan is in fucking China.

I understand the Chinese government is quite touchy at this point in time, considering it's record of colossal fuck-ups in recent years and it's virtual humiliation at the trade negotiation table by one OrangeManBad.

Part of this is a the natural reaction of a people who have -- despite all of the evidence to the contrary, and it is a considerable body, I must say -- considered themselves superior to all others for centuries, and who have become accustomed to painting themselves as victims of the rest of the World for events that, strictly speaking, were largely the result of their own arrogance in believing that if you let the "smelly, big-nosed foreigner" in, he could do you no harm (because inferior specimen) only to discover that not only was this supposed Homo Chumpicus not only very much smarter than you (in the ways that counted) but that you have been apparently too stupid to emulate him.

China was partitioned and economically exploited by the West and this hurts your feelz?

 Awwww, too bad. You granted them entrance and then decided they had nothing to offer you and that they could not take anything from you, let alone influence your culture in ways that made you weaker and easier to exploit. It's a self-inflicted wound: get over it.

China failed to enter the modern age, despite copying dominant-Western forms of government, including democracy, fascism and communism and this, likewise, puts sand in your collective vagina?

Cry to someone who cares.

There's a sort of Cognitive Dissonance on display here (the Japanese had the same blind spot) that on the one hand, you consider yourself a superior people, and on the other, you keep importing foreign ideas, methods, weapons, industries, etc., and then can't get them to work.

The proof comes with the deaths of perhaps 60 million people in a manufactured famine and we'll-never-know-how-many as a result of a cultural tradition that sees people eat vermin that are butchered in open-air slaughter houses full of blood and human waste in the center of densely-packed, fire-trap cities full of malnourished, probably unvaccinated, people with a centuries-long history of a variety of congenital diseases caused by poor hygiene and sanitation (not to mention environmental pollution) living under a dictatorial regime that never learns from its mistakes and improves because it allows no dissent.

About the only thing China does efficiently is kill people who notice the Worker's Paradise is not all it's cracked up to be.

This whole incident has caused you "to lose face" -- as did the protests in Hong Kong, the ass-rape you suffered over tariffs and trade? It has all shattered your confidence in your shitty nation as something of a World-BEstriding Behemoth, a force to be reckoned with? You're deathly embarrassed?

You should be. You'd better be. But the idea that you can escape blame by crying victim of "racism" is pure bullshit. It is soooo weak. And reflects even more-poorly on you all. You obviously suck.

2) To my American, and particularly European, friends who tell me that referring to this Plague of Snot and Phlegm as "Commievirus", "Chinese Bat Soup Flu", "The Asian Apocalypse", "Shangai Death Sentence", "Worker's Influenza" and other assorted whimsies is a "sign of racism" that requires me to "remember that we live in a culture committed to Diversity(except straight, white males)", I have two things to say:

a) Perhaps you're unaware of such things, seeing as how you live in gated communities in suburbs of extraordinary whiteness, but the sight of the Masked Asian (almost always Chinese), trying desperately to either avoid infection or spreading the litany of Third World virulence brewing inside of them in the streets of New York City has been a staple for something on the order of 25 years.

The sight of an Asian (particularly Chinese) openly picking their noses on a subway train and then wiping the resulting goop on the seat, as is sneezing or coughing without covering one's face, not to mention spitting profusely, is an occurrence one can almost set their watch by.

Yes, I KNOW that NOT ALL Chinese behave this way, nor ALL ASIANS, too; yes, I understand that these are often immigrants who don't understand the cultural give-and-take of our foreign (hey, we live here: they're the visitors) ways regarding common courtesy and public health, and for sure, I'm well aware that they often come from places where this is considered normal and acceptable behavior, but it is neither "racist" to point it out, nor to insist they conform to our ways, "commitment to Diversity (except straight, white males)" be damned.

b) ...it is the fucking Diversity that brought us this disease, you asshole.

I don't say this because I "hate" anyone; I say it because it is an acknowledgement of fact. With humor. The people who make statements like "commitment to Diversity" are, by and large, humorless scolds with very limited sex lives and Mommy issues to begin with. They aren't happy -- because they're typically terrible people, themselves, and intensely aware of it --  and compensate by shitting all over others and pretending it is an exercise in virtue.

When I shit on someone it is because they deserve to be shat upon.

Learn the difference between shitting as a means of psychologically denying your own innate fucktard, and shitting as a means of making an often valuable and irrefutable point.

Then go fuck yourself. Preferably with something sharp and rusty.

Make sure you put it on Instagram, because that's what sort of self-absorbed twatwaffle you are.

You're only aiding the Virus and rooting against your own team. There's a price to be paid for dishonesty and trying to avoid offense in times like this. For those of you who are old enough to remember, just think what might have happened, how things might have changed, had we not been so afraid to tell the truth about AIDS when it first appeared.

For the sake of not "offending" gay people, or "making them targets of hate", we pretended it was a public health problem that could be solved by deliberately not singling out the source and enforcing traditional quarantine and tracing regimes.

Millions were needlessly infected, and probably died, because of this inability to reconcile the need to bow before Objective Reality, to do what is logically required, with the (perceived) need to avoid embarrassing others.

People recover from embarrassment and shame.

They die of AIDS.

And sometimes Coronavirus.

3) As for my European friends actively cheering for the deaths of millions of Americans, all I can say is that your myriad of deep-seeded inferiority complexes are showing. The delicious part of this all is that the failure of Italy to handle this problem when it arose -- and the threat of millions of Asian and Middle Eastern refugees congregating at your borders to bring you more of it and to overwhelm your already-crappy hospital systems -- has frightened you to such an extent that rather than do something positive to avoid your new version of the Black Death, you derive more pleasure from the thought that someone else can -- and should -- suffer more from it than you do.

Another rich tidbit is all the Euros who insist that Donald Trump is a dictator and then are somewhat furious and puzzled as to why he's not acting like one NOW. In an Emergency. Because every European swinging dick in proximity to the centers of power would have been goosestepping all over Peoria right now. They take the lack of manifestation of Trump's "natural dictatorial qualities" (as they see them) as a sign that he doesn't care.

Now, I know that Europeans have a long and comfortable history of being pissed upon by dictators and ordered about and made to suffer for the whims of a complete mental defective, and living with institutions that produce little but expensive and bloody failure  -- especially you cunts in Portugal, Italy,  Spain and Germany -- but this is 'merica. Not Europe. We do things differently (and better) here.

It's also an indication that they are looking to Trump -- and America -- for leadership, in a back-handed way, which probably makes them even crazier. They know that when their own decrepit and corrupt systems fail, like Italy's did, they may have to call upon Uncle Sam (again) to save their bacon. If America looks as if it doesn't have a handle on this, then this causes Europeans to panic. If only a million or two million Americans die only then, they believe, will someone take this seriously...and save them.

Which is why we win and you keep losing.

If you ask me, we nuked the wrong people in 1945.

Mrs. Overlord and I are hunkered down quite snugly on our Death Star. This may be the first, and only, time that I will actually celebrate the fact that we live on an island that is mainly accessed by bridges which bear $19 one-way tolls on them.

It's a small blessing, seeing as how the riff-raff are busy spending their otherwise-meager resources on toilet paper. If they have to make the choice between spending $19 to come here and make me ill, or spend that money getting that last roll of Charmin and a case of Dinty Moore beef stew (with a bag of pork rinds for shits and giggles) then I'm abso-fucking-lutely ecstatic.

Mrs. Overlord is fine, to this point, but I am watching her health like Joe Biden watches a five year old girl. the last thing I want right now is a trip to a hospital.

I was ill for about three days last week, but the combination of Nyquil products, bed rest and Gatorade saw me through. The cough persists, but it is a dry cough and intermittent. No different then every other End-of-Winter- Approach-of-Spring cold I get every year.

One of the curious results of this "Shelter-in-Place" policy is that I'm seeing a lot more of my neighbors than normal. I'm sort of something like the mayor of our street, since I know most everyone who lives on it by name, and the rest by face, and often talk to them.

And in this day-and-age of "social distancing" a strange phenomenon is taking shape.

The Overlord was raised, for a time, in Brooklyn, before moving to the more-bucolic form of Hell that is Staten Island. Brooklynites have some --to an outsider -- strange behaviors and practices that are not really seen in other places (or that I'm aware of). One of these is the tradition of "stooping".

For the uninitiated, a "stoop" (derived from the Dutch word for "porch" or "staircase" I forget which) is a short flight of stairs, usually constructed of brick or stone, that leads to one's front door. The Stoop plays an important role in Brooklyn's life, or at least did when I was kid, before it became overpopulated by effeminate men in spandex sporting samurai buns, Middle Easterners hawking carpets (5th Avenue has to be the world's largest Persian Carpet Market with no customers on Earth), and the Caribbean Peoples. It was upon the stoop, for instance, that one played "stoopball" -- a variation of baseball without a bat or baserunning -- that is too complex to go into here. But one of those traditions that persists, even to this day, is "stooping".

Stooping involves sitting on your front steps, entire families, often, and shouting to your neighbors across the street or down the block. This is the bush network by which the entire neighborhood is kept up to date on the comings and going and daily activities of one's neighbors.

This tradition was almost extinct on Staten Island, which is curious, since half the population (or more) are refugees from Brooklyn (fleeing the Man Buns, rug dealers and Caribbeans). People went to Staten Island to get away from other people, mainly, and so such social events gradually died out among the emigres. There were people on this island, who had often lived here for decades, who would tell you with pride that they didn't even know or talk to the people who lived next door.

It is now being revived, thanks to Coronavirus.

For being forced to be locked inside your house for 24 hours a day is driving many of my neighbors batty (no pun intended) and they are now taking to walking up and down and around the block in order to get some exercise and break the monotony.

And we're all talking to one another, from a distance.

I see them from my own stoop, since I smoke outside and since I'm out there and they're out there, someone gets the bright idea that this is now a great time to start a conversation (to further break the monotony and perhaps to share concerns and news). So, neighbors that I had known only by face for a few years, I now know by name. Everyone wants to give you their complete biography when they stop by for a chat, so I know their backgrounds, maladies, pet peeves and I'm sure at some point someone will go all the way and get way too personal and weird with what they reveal.

Since I regard most forms of human contact as both an unwanted intrusion and a form of disease, despite the fact that people tell me that I'm quite gregarious (I probably just do a really good job of hiding my contempt, perhaps?), this is somewhat annoying. I came out to smoke a Marlboro, not hear the history of that unwanted growth you had removed from your neck, your grandmother's ordeal with gallstones, or the intimate details of your child's potty training.

On the other hand, it is something of a public service I'm (involuntarily) providing. People need to talk, especially now, and I'm not one to let a good conversation or argument go to waste. It is somewhat therapeutic, and reminds me of much-simpler days when all one had to worry about was hitting the right step in the right place to get a triple, or living in fear that Mrs. Rohan from two doors down might tell your mother what she caught you doing three days before that involved model glue, a book of matches, and a can of hairspray (the same "good" hairspray your mother has been looking for these last three days), or that Mr. Wessels from across the street may rat you out because he caught your 12-year-old ass smoking your grandfather's Lucky Strikes.

But for all of this the one thing I'm not seeing in my neighbors is panic.

Not a whiff of it.

So, it's obvious the media is lying to us and deliberately distorting the true nature of this emergency.

I already knew that, but the last week or so is confirming it for me. I am not seeing hysterical people in the streets; I'm not seeing "a racist backlash" against Asians or Muslims (half the people on this block are Vietnamese, Korean, Indian, Sri Lankan, or Pakistani), and the last thing everyone asks when the conversation ends is:

"Do you need anything?"

Which is exactly what one would expect to hear from REAL New Yorkers -- not those pretentious vegetarian, ambiguously-gay-bike-riding imports -- in a time like this.

In another note, someone has requested that I write something about the Silver Lining that is, I believe, hidden inside this massive storm cloud. Because there IS one. Actually several. I'll get on it in a day or two. See you then.

UPDATE: Corrected some grammar.


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