Into the Plague Wastelands

I strapped my .45 to my hip and assumed an intimidating mien as I cautiously left home, journeying into the wilderness that once was the northwestern United States. Nothing moved as far as the eye could see but for the tumbleweeds lazily drifting along vacant streets. The plague seems to have annihilated the populace. If only they had stocked up on something more edible than toilet paper, they might have survived.

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I exaggerate. It was strange to easily traverse a notoriously congested intersection in town. Parking was easier than usual, too. But people are trying to keep their businesses open so they can make ends meet. Life seems to be going on, just at a reduced pace.

I am not sure what to make of the coronavirus scare. On the one hand, I see no reason to deny the existence of a novel virus. On the other hand, I would not be surprised if this is not so new as they say. I and many in my circle of acquaintances experienced the described symptoms in months past. No one was looking for it, so no one knows whether it has already been here or not. I could be wrong, of course.

I still think the biggest danger is not the virus itself, but the media hype and political flailing of control freaks frantically applying the politician's syllogism as justification for new tyrannical trespasses. I could still prove wrong, but a good rule of thumb is to always be suspicious of any government proclamation of impending doom. They don't have our best interest at heart. No matter the outcome, we will be told it would have been worse without the intervention, just like the financial collapses that were worse after intervention than the forecasts predicted without intervention.