Questioning our sanity, on days that end in Y, has become a habit many I guess now engage in, testing the waters, reading the news, trends on Twitter, and shake our head and sigh.
I escape, go to my sanctuary, my shelter from the plague outside my door, of the virus kind, and the hatred and stressed out about to snap at any minute kind.
Time passes here underneath the Black Walnut Tree, and the beautiful shadows enchant me, dancing through the Papyrus, manipulate the sun, just for fun, like a smile from some divinity hiding in the leaves.
Now that we have moved in Ontario to Stage 2, some things are open, can gather in groups of 10, and restaurants with patios can open… as long as tables are more than 2 metres apart.
Even so, I prefer solitude, so when I do poke my nose out, well for one thing no one can actually see my nose, and I generally do so as rarely as possible. Hardcore introvert that I am, I have meticulously carved out this little oasis for myself, and thus I’m on a bit of an island, in this little village hood, at the edge of the heart of a Canadian city… and thank friggin’ blawdy god for that. Still.
Kindness has taken a beating of late, and in some spots completely disappeared, like dandelions the cranky or crazy spring up all over. Dignity, community spirit, compassion for some is basically akin to disloyalty to the reality TV president being crushed by reality.
A bit crazy… OUT there. Not right there out MY door, though, still.
Lots and lots of dystopian sci-fi horror novel made real stuff, and… well. Still.
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Following along on this wild ride, hang in, hangin on, er, so far.
Dialogue of late online has devolved, combative, fear ridden, with the far right spewing quasi-science YouTubers quackery, and all the rest of the monstrous rat-fukry going on down yonder south of that border I am so very glad is going to be closed for the foreseeable future.
So, time to step back, look around at it all.
What I really see is a bunch of folks who, with more time on their hands to contemplate their own navel than ever before, locked down with those for whom they have professed to love, and they’ve had the time to actually think about stuff they had no time to think about before.
Fear-mongers stalk them, want to manipulate those fragile minds, fiddle with facts, play with their anxieties, for they are merely tools being used, to strike, distract, misdirect, divide, conquer, or just for profit.
Still.
2020 so far sucks on many levels, for many people, in many ways.
I mean, up is sometimes down, and down is often literally up, and left is occasionally a secret right, and some who were always right have decided to be left. For some folk being kind has become evil, and stupid has I guess become patriotic.
Still.
I mean, hard to feel any sympathy for such mean and nasty skanks, trolling the public with their temper tantrums and racist slurs, running naked around in their white privilege. And thus in a gust of chaos KKKaren appears on the scene, maskless harpie, spewing her demented “my choice, my body”, and irony is now dead.
So easy to just laugh off the crazy cray cray conspiracy nutters and feel all superior, cause, well. Ya.
Still.
Yes mom, I often of late hear grandma’s pack a day gravelly voice… if you can’t say anything nice, better not to say anything at all. Good advice in these trying times.
Poor old Darwin would be horrified, or amused, definitely a cause to wonder if some of us are devolving… is that even possible?
Yet… still… I think we also need to watch again, get some perspective, and see that there are some folks who are deeply disturbed, legitimately afraid, and we should feel at least some compassion for, well, at the very least their ignorance at falling for these shysters out to make a buck off that fear.
Anxiety, stress, unemployment, genuine fear of the future, a virus we still don’t really understand spreading everywhere, randomly killing the young, though preferring the old and immune compromised, and dangerous for those with heart issues, lung issues. No vaccine, yet.
People handle stress in all kinds of ways.
Still.
Believe me, work in retail for any length of time and that fact becomes abundantly clear. People are nuts.
Certainly, to be fair, most people are polite and respectful, and your day goes usually tickity-boo.
Yet, every so often, out of the depths of hell is spawned that unhinged customer, and you adjust your sails to not let them destabilize you, cause that level of raging human is capable of dislodging the harmony of your whole entire day.
Like ticks in long grass, Americans video encounters with KKKaren, going off half-cocked, getting groceries, at the gas station, in their car, waiting in a restaurant for shredded cheese.
Karen comes in all shapes and sizes, and her entitlement and extreme anger management issues are delightfully set off by her displays of deranged full on toddler in meltdown mode.
Twitter averages about, em, 1 or 2 good all out Karen’s in full sail per day. This particular one appeared in the feed yesterday.
It would appear that Karen wasn’t dragged out of the grocery store by her mother, horrified this heathen spawn was her offspring.
I think maybe some Karen’s are entitled spoiled little selfish brats.
Still.
Still, we all know the emotions that well up inside can be far more difficult to manage under pressure, and I often now remind myself at how close we could all be to that raging wacko.
Some.
Well, not me, cause I’d rather disappear into the floor than make a spectacle. That level of full on LOOOK AT MEEE, LOOK AT MEEE… well… ya… not very likely.
Yet, still.
I can always muster atleast a smidgen of sympathy. I mean, at the very least I guess just for the grace of circumstance that made it so that screeching banshees don’t live near me, for one.
Still.
I know there are those that see seclusion as the road to hell, and lockdown twists their fragile selves to putty and the controls are lost, let loose into the public a tornado that is ‘Karen’ spins off into whatever paranoid delusion she can scream at you, like a junkie seeking a fix, with BS and blither she spreads droplets of gawd knows what wherever her demonic self goes.
Still.
I mean, you know mom, most of the ‘Karen’ sorts I’ve seen seriously look like they need help, psychological assistance to level out that raging screaming crash they are about to encounter. And, course, others just are psychologically entitled skanks who fall into their own half-eaten box of chocolate scenarios, from racist shrill to delusional suburban lunatic with too much time on their hands.
Still.
We are taught decorum when we are young so that we can avoid making a fool out of ourselves in public, and consequentially lose our jobs because we think everyone deserves to die cause, well, they have all sorts of things they need to do… you know, mani pedi, foo foo dog hair cut, or whatever else asinine crap people waste their shekels on, sometimes requiring extreme levels of rage when they’re told to think of someone else for a moment or 5 and wear a damn mask.
And why? I don’t know, they insist on any number of BS quackery, but generally, cause they are entitled loudmouth excrement.
Still, are there really more of these entitled wingnuts? Hard to say, or does it just seem like they’re more cause everyone with a phone can video their raging nastiness?
Yes, there is the question – is it real, or just fantasy?
Are there more Karens, or are there more paid to act like raging Karens?
See mom, everyone now can make a buck by clicks on videos, or just attention seeking, either/or, or both, it can be a bit of a rat-fukry feeding frenzy.
Thus, it is best to take long and extended breaks from the constant in your face streaming screaming media and its mongrels.
Which can be difficult, cause, like, reality right now is better than any TV show, just one surprise after another.
Yes, 2020 so far does kind of suck-a-rooney, full of looney’s, and a deadly virus, killer hornets, and all manner of insanity du jour.
Instead… zen out, click off, go for a walk, or like me… out to the shelter of my stoop.
Or, all of the above, in one day. And, perhaps I will do that today.
Oh, take me away Calgon, from aaalll the Karen’s.
But first, before I sign off, a public service announcement from … RANDY RAINBOW.
by PaulaB 