Untold Millions ≠ 15 Cases

ADDENDUM: If there are problems accessing the above RoyLab Stats RealTime Counter, try Clicking Here.

This post’s headline refers to Donald J. Trump’s fallacious (02/26/20) coronavirus claim…

“You have 15 people, and the 15 within a couple of days is going to be down to close to zero.”

As accurate and current as this Real Time Counter is, what it fails to report are the uncounted tears; of the patients, the medical professionals who are trying to save them, and last but not least, all who are mourning those, who did not make it back home… well… at least not back to their homes found on earth.

BTW…  if you’ve been guessing that coronavirus will soon be done with us… GUESS AGAIN!

Stay Safe at Home! Stay Publicly Masked! Stay Healthy!

Stay on Board with the following life saving advice, too…

[1] Scrub hands often (at least 20 seconds each time), [2] Cover all coughs and sneezes, [3] Avoid touching eyes, nose and mouth, [4] Observe social distancing protocols (remain at least 2 meters / 6 feet apart, [5] Wear protective face masks in public, [6] Avoid large crowds, [7] socially isolate at home, [8] Self-quarantine if you’re feeling ill / seek medical professionals’ help if necessary, [9] Know that you can be asymptomatic and still be spreading COVID-19 to others, and [10] Some epidemiologists now believe mere speaking can shed coronavirus; human airborne “droplets” remaining contagious for long periods of time. Ergo, it’s possible to contract COVID-19 even if you are the only one in the vicinity. Our best defense is to WEAR OUR MASKS every time we’re in public… watch video, below, for further details…

 

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What Would the Wise (Wo)Man Do?

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Alt-Headline: Covid-21? 22? 23? 24 etc.?

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In some respects, this liberal man has opted to live his life conservatively; i.e., cautiously. That stems from my determination not to depart the Land of the Living prior to the arrival of the Best By / Expiration Date, which my bygone manufacturer(s) had invisibly, indelibly stamped on my butt. How adamant am I? Glad you asked!

I am fully prepared to adopt an interminable coronavirus common sense stance. The Covid-19 vaccines notwithstanding, I fully intend to continue hunkering down at home as much as possible and keep on publicly social distancing and masking-up; as in long, Long, LONG after the medical experts, eventually, silence the Star Trekian RED ALERT klaxons. Why?

For starters, our donning our masks during late 2020 and early 2021 did dramatically reduce transmission of the regular flu virus (and rhinoviruses, too).

Beyond that? There’s insufficient certainty re the duration of the existing vaccines’ protection and whether or not the virologists will be able to keep up with the arrival of the insanely dangerous, coronavirus variants.

Beyond beyond that? What if, as I type and you read these words, there’s another global pandemic looming; oh, say a Covid-21? And if not a 21, what about a Covid-22? 23? 24 etc.?

Year numbers are no different that regular numbers. Just as you and I can easily pick a number, just as easily, virus hunters can always tack on one integer WHEN they discover a new microbe. And note that word choice BOILS DOWN to WHEN and not IF.

Even the idiomatic phrase BOILS DOWN is likely apt. To e.g. that…

What if climate change, in other words, our far, Far, FAR warmer planet, is already providing a more hospitable environment for microbes? In other words, what if human shortsightedness has resulted in our unwittingly constructing something akin to a global lab; its petri dishes incubating / cooking up / churning out difficult to contain, ferociously communicable, deadly to humankind pestilence?

While, for now, that may all sound like some scary, nightmarish plot to a bizarre Sci-Fi flick, do keep in mind that it’s also insanely easy for you and I to twice press our keyboards’ delete key to eliminate that above “Fi”.

Ergo… I’ll copy and paste this post’s above headline:

What Would the Wise (Wo)Man Do?

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Mask-Up Now! Suit-Up Later?

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Seeing how, there have now been over half a century’s worth of Earth Days and, still, not enough is getting done to combat global warming / climate change, let’s go the K.I.S.S.* route; i.e., cut thru all the hot air type of discussions / debates.

On one hand, we find a gaggle of boneheaded science deniers, who are at the crux of two humanity threatening problems; Environmental Ruin and the Pandemic.

On the other hand, learned climatologists are predicting that, as early as 2050, there’s the all too real possibility that our greenhouse gas / polluted atmosphere will render our home world uninhabitable.

Hmm, one wonders how today’s anti-maskers, who constantly make bogus claims that a simple, flexible piece of cloth, covering the nose and mouth, restricts their ability to breathe / causes them to gag, will react when, just to avoid deadly asphyxiation, perhaps winding up a fried to a crisp corpse, it’ll require everyone suiting up in a NASA / Project Apollo era, bulky moon suit?

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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* K.I.S.S. = Keep It Simple Straightforward

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A Morning / Mourning to Remember

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Eighteen April twenty-seconds ago, I donned my public speaker hat for fifteen minutes; put on my best public face and managed to dry my eyes long enough to eulogize my Mother; mention how two co-conspirators, a.k.a. Age and Infirmity, had ushered in her final day on Earth; sum up nearly ninety year’s worth of her extraordinary, ordinary life and times.

And “extraordinary” is an apt term, considering how this impoverished public school teacher (married to an impoverished public school teacher) had, somehow, managed to survive the 1918 pandemic as well as the socioeconomic blowback precipitated by two World Wars and 1929’s Great Depression.

Factoring in how, decades prior to her demise, two more co-conspirators, a.k.a. Time and Distance, had misled her down the beaten path to loneliness / near reclusiveness, I hadn’t expected much of a turnout at her memorial service.

To my surprise, fourteen attendees signed her guest book; a scant two of those being my co-workers. Yes, indeed, one dozen of Mom’s friends and acquaintances had thought enough of her to find time in their own lives to pay their last respects.

Seventeen April twenty-seconds ago, I opened my microphone to record an audio recreation of Mom’s eulogy; mixing in some suitable musical selections during the post production phase. Yes, a memorial CD had been born; inclusive of jewel box artwork and a twenty page, memorial booklet / insert.

On this April twenty-second (as has always happened in the past), my eyes welled up during my playback of this special CD; this time, my tears transcending the obvious reason.

For starters, I found myself considering how the afterlife, celebrated in story and song, may not actually exist; the possibility that the dearly departed only live on in the realm of our loving, caring hearts; our cherished memories of them.

Beyond that, I could not help but feel intense sorrow FOR the (known) three million souls, worldwide; FOR the well over half million (known) souls, stateside, who’ve passed on; who’ve literally, been denied their breathing rights by the ruthless Corona-V; FOR the untold families and friends who now survive them; the vast majority of these mourners still being denied even the slightest sense of closure by way of the eulogy / memorial service.

BTW, for anyone who may be interested, I’m linking to the second half of my Mom’s Eulogy.

PS: My apologies re that past post’s “dearly departed” YouTube clips.

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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A Bad Cop sez, “Stop AND I’ll shoot!”

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Eric Stillman, has been identified as the Chicago cop who, on 03/29/21, shot and killed 13-year-old Adam Toledo; i.e. in spite of the teen fully complying with the cop’s laced with F-bombs orders to stop and show his hands. Early accounts of the incident make it unclear as to whether or not Toledo actually had been armed with a deadly weapon at that time. However, his obeying police orders does render that point, moot / up in the air.

Be forewarned, Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot, is not being hyperbolic in describing the available surveillance / body cam compilation vid as both “excruciating” and “difficult to watch”. You can view it over at CNN’s website.

Several bullet point Q’s to Stillman, whose M.O. appears to be “Stop AND I’ll shoot!” NOT “Stop OR I’ll shoot!”:

• Would not ordering Toledo to hit the ground, instead, have better deescalated this tense situation?

• Would not such a command have also better ensured your own personal safety?

• How can a suspect with empty hands, held up in the air, have posed any threat to you / anyone else?

• In your book, what more could Toledo have done to avoid getting gunned down by you?

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Sweet Dreams Are (Not) Made Of This

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Upon awakening from a lifetime of recallable dreams, I’ve frequently mulled over the feasibility of online dream journaling. However, I’ve resisted making my slumbering nightlife an open book, mainly, because I’ve deemed my content, by and large, to be akin to a bedtime story; in other words, a real yawner. Uh, that is, up till this early a.m., when my R.E.M. sleep story seemed a bit more worthwhile and interweb interweave-able.

It all boils down to a specific dreams’ recursive, bothersome nature; of late, the bizarre manner in which my unconscious mind has been prioritizing a particular narrative; has become unduly fond of (unproductively?) sorting out my time served within a peculiar, particular gated community, a.k.a. Retail Hell (initially, as a sales rep; later on, as an entry level manager).

The, perhaps, unsolvable mystery, here, is why there’d even need to be a nocturnal rehashing of this epoch of my life; these dreams ARE playing out nearly 13 years following my injury-forced early retirement. Additionally, I’d hardly categorize more than 5 of those 30 work years as worthwhile and satisfying. Hence, my headline’s negation of the 1983 Annie Lennox / David A. Stewart’s song title, “Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This”.

Possibly, it’s my having pissed away nearly forty-five percent of my entire life within that milieu, which would account for this phenomenon? Might there simply not be enough of my other life experiences to draw on? My gawd, it’d be bat crap pathetic, indeed, were my so-called career the only aspect that had ever defined me.

Getting down to the actual dream details, they are, at best, phantasmagorical; the slew of farcical / surreal workplace settings, facial flashes of both wretched and wonderful big bosses and fleeting glimpses of the revolving door co-workers who’d been treated just as shoddily as I. Other mystifying dream elements include my neither showing up for work nor completing my assigned tasks on time, utterly failing to carry out the most mundane of work routines and, in the process, completely mucking up everything; all of which, runs totally counter to the actual facts; corroborated by my rock solid, top-notch, annual job performance reviews.

As for “the why” to my experiencing these (worthless?) dreams, the only working theory I can dream up is how that bygone era of my work life had been a walk in the park; when compared to staggering thru today’s zombie apocalypse.

Such an assessment of tough times, doth summon forth the 1967, James Anthony Dean / Paul Riser / William Henry Witherspoon, R&B/Soul musical masterpiece, “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted”: these songsmiths’ lead lyric, “As I walk this land with broken dreams” aptly setting the world stage.

Once juxtaposed, such a sentiment is totally relevant to the coronavirus pandemic, which has devastated, debilitated and decimated humanity; to a society sickened by the plague of racial inequality, police brutality, gun violence and mass shootings; to the delusional domestic terrorist sleeper cells, who await their collective alarm clock to go off; to trigger the unleashing of their deadly and destructive plots; all of which could, someday, trump Trump’s own, wide awake nightmare; his fortunately failed January 6th attempt to hack America to death.

Indeed, Sweet Dreams Are (Not) Made Of This.

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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To Souls Present and Passed…

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A toast to all humane humans, who persevere;
And to whatever remain of our worldly tomorrows;
Even if that tallies out at one; just tomorrow.
And to today; in the event tomorrow never comes.

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A toast to all kindhearted souls; present and passed;
And to our eventual, eternal reunion;
Be our shared existence at the elemental level,
On the anticipated, heavenly plane,
Or within some extraordinary realm that
cannot be fathomed by the mere, mortal mind.

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Pregnant Wordplay

Peeps of noble creeds; valiant; steadfast
Steep regal deeds; revered nth degree vast
Keep legal speeds; steer forward; dread past
Reap secreted seeds, they’ve dreamed ’n’ spread; cast
Deep-seated needs, theirs, they’ve deemed ‘em dead last
Bleep defeatist feeds; shear all sheer blowhards’ bombast

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Embattled Mixed Emotions

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As a pacifist, I concur with President Joe Biden’s decision to finally end George W. Bush’s ill-conceived War in Afghanistan; the projected exit date to fall on September 11, 2021; the 20th Anniversary of the NYC / DC / PA al-Qaeda attacks.

As a pragmatist, I know there’s little for the world to gain by America soldiering onward, endlessly, in that one specific war zone; especially considering how terrorism, by its very nature, knows no geopolitical boundaries; when new, terrorist training camps proliferate not unlike metastatic cancer cells; when any attempts at shutting them down is not unlike playing a bloody, deadly game of Whac-a-Mole.

As an ethicist, I also need to factor in the Pottery Barn, “You Break It, You Own It Rule”. Obviously, since W did his damnedest to break Afghanistan, unfortunately, that means that each of his presidential successors, have inherited the carnage. And, as such, there’s a moral and financial obligation to clean up all that W had mucked up.

The rub here is that when it comes down to any Wars on Terror, there are no easy exit strategies; as the reality of W’s nearly two decades long AND Russia’s one decade long no-win battles can both certainly attest to.

The problem began when brain dead W, in his futile attempt to “smoke out” Osama bin Laden, had resorted to boots on the ground overkill when, truth be told, a more refined, cogent approach would’ve sufficed; e.g. President Barack Obama’s deployment of the “United States Navy SEALs of the U.S. Naval Special Warfare Development Group (also known as DEVGRU or SEAL Team Six)” (quoted content copied / pasted from Google search).

Of course, that’s not to say there have been no gains within Afghanistan, in particular, we must consider the modest improvements re human rights; more specifically, women’s rights.

As an altruist, the very thought of the Taliban (or any other barbaric, moronic, misogynistic régime), muscling its way back into that embattled region is repugnant to me.

As a realist, I know that U.S. troops have been fighting no-win battles. So, how the hell could it ever be any different for the Afghani forces who will soon be left to fend for themselves?

As a kinda / sorta journalist, I find it absolutely unsettling to end a blog with a question, especially one that neither I nor anyone else can honestly answer in a hopeful manner. Long sigh.

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Nearly an Eternity in Lockdown

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Almost sixty years prior to the coronavirus pandemic, my own peers had made it their Job #1 to bully me; demote me to the rank rank of second class citizen; these sickos’ nonsensical and merciless verbal, physical and emotional attacks robbing me of the carefree, fun times, which is (should be) (must be) each and every kid’s birthright.

And, upon factoring in how much school I had skipped to escape their torment, they also committed similar grand larceny by denying me my education; which, btw, is (should be) (must be) each and every human’s birthright, too.

Oh, eventually, after four long years of this harassment, these schoolyard and neighborhood hoodlums / hooligans did grow a tad weary of tormenting me, but their timing could not have been worse. You see, by then, puberty took over; it’s Job #1 being to deface my face.

While my parents (by profession, both high school level educators) did attempt to defend and console me, they could no more effectively open my principals’ eyes than my clogged pores.

My only, bygone coping mechanism, summed up in two words, had become: Social Isolating

Not showing my face in public, eventually, became a way of life; if “life” is even the operative word, here.

Ironically, my leading into 2020, New Year’s resolution had been to get off the bench and back into the game of life; to make the most out of whatever time I have remaining on Earth.

Needless to say, we all know how well that went, don’t we?

So, what has nearly a lifetime in lockdown taught me?

In pre-pandemic times, I could take some solace in my belief that life’s parade was still marching onward; to be joined in progress when the time was ripe.

However, with the pandemic still marching and rampaging onward AND the revelation of the ever-evolving, far more contagious and deadlier, coronavirus variants (of late, discovered, right here, in my home state of Michigan) AND the slow down of the vaccines’ distribution (due to both logistical and pharmacological problems) it’d appear that life’s parade has been canceled indefinitely.

My greatest concerns:

  • By the time this running amok, global scourge is finally in our rear view mirrors, so too, will be my above mentioned, days of yore, ill-timed, ill-fated New Year’s resolution.
  • Considering how a huge chunk of my Earthly existence can already be seen within my own, personal, rear view mirror, my road ahead, indeed, doth appear short.

My best coping mechanism (hopefully yours too), summed up in ten words, continues to be:

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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To whom it may concern…

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To whom it may concern (be you many or few):
When you espy us, how do you construe?
Our X-OneNation, ISO its glue;
And devoid of its vertebrae, too.

How would you treat pseudo science reliers?
And defeat global warming deniers.
And anti-maskers; social distance defiers.
And all the rest of these wisdom decriers.

Would you deck out, all decadent folks?
Decked out in brown shirts or white hoods and cloaks.
Who’d reinstall OrangeMan; instill his hoax.
Who’d call on wild insurrection to coax.

How would you fight all who deepen each schism?
Out the “devout”, who flout their catechism.
Fire the pushers of each evil ism.
Devotee voters who’d fight FOR Fascism!

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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