SPARKLING NEGATIVITY

When I stepped out for a walk around the neighborhood last night there were sounds of jollification from the bars on Polk Street, where the maskless throngs were having drinks and snackipoos. Now, I too like snackipoos. But with all those unprotected people clustered together, that's a recipe for another lockdown in three weeks.


The disease spreaders are not the children -- normally a source of germs and disease -- but the dim old farts who don't wear their masks if they can get away with it, joggers spreading waves of droplet-laden turbulence as they run past being all healthy la la la, bicyclists, and above all the social butterflies who need their drinks and snackipoos in vast cheery herds.


I confess I am not a social man. Company is best if severely limited in number. One or two exceptional people, rather than five or ten chance-met bar-hoppers and dance-hall types.

I probably wouldn't mind some social contact, if the other person was sensible and not gregarious. A reserved person with a mask reading a book at the other end of the room.
Where there are two cups of tea, placed six or seven feet apart, and an ashtray.


What this city needs are skunks wandering down busy thoroughfares. As well as crazier and more rabid street people. And howling wolves. Lots of howling wolves.


A lone pipesmoker, no matter how feral, just isn't enough.

Skunks, fox girls, daemonic presences, glowering from the shadows.
This pretence of normal life will end up killing people.
Keep your mask on, and avoid party animals.
Oh, and put sambal on everything.



Modern American society is a toxic construct.
Especially in it's white yuppie form.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================