OpenTable should add reservations for 8PM rioting.

The crazed Left weren’t able to topple Trump with WuFlu, aka the Chinese Plague, so all this news about the lockdowns/stay-at-home orders being ineffective and too late in most cases, and actual medical people saying wearing a mask outside of a medical facility “offers [you] little, if any, protection from infection”, is suddenly coming to light.

See many links at Legal Insurrection, courtesy Instapundit.  And if you don’t like that Sarah Hoyt posted it because “Sarah Hoyt has a political agenda”, then you can kindly fuck off and never darken my door again.

“Never mind. We’ll get the Orange Man another way, my pretties! Everybody downtown for the staged Antifa riots tonight!”

Oops. Might want to reconsider making that 8PM appointment for rioting and dancing.

Last word:

They shoot looters, don’t they?

Apparently not anymore.  Apparently we’re just as welcoming of looters as we are homeless and other vagrants on our streets.  So instead of shooting a few looters pour encourager les autres and beating the hell out of the rest, we got to sit on our asses at home last night in yet another form of lockdown — the curfew.  (And we’ll get to do it again tonight, apparently.)

This needs to stop, and it needs to stop now.  But Indianapolis is becoming another Detroit as we watch — not a surprise given the abandonment of the city to the Democrats.

None of this crap brings George back to life, you know.  And it won’t stop the cops next time they run up against a “George”.

The America my father and his brothers fought to defend is gone.  What is left is merely the twitching carcass.  May it rest in peace.

On Decoration Day

It strikes me that a lot of the veterans who died to re-unite this country, and who died to protect it in our other wars and overseas adventures, would consider this day well-used, and their sacrifices not having been in vain, if a lot of antifaggots in various cities and towns across the fruited plain — including this one — were decorating lampposts this evening.  If only, you know, pour encourager les autres.

But as they say, keep your powder dry, and avoid downtown areas.  This ain’t over.

Phased and confused

Apparently the mayor has deigned to allow the city to go to Stage 3, the next “phase” of the Great Reopening.  Well, a “modified” Stage 3.

I hate to tell the mayor, but as far as people around here are concerned, we reopened a couple of weeks ago.  Not that the restaurants and gyms and other restricted places did (and they should have given the finger to Hizzoner and Da Gov and just done it anyway), but the traffic around here is right back up to pre-COVID levels.  There was a time when I could just whip right on out of our neighborhood, but now we’re back to having to wait for traffic to clear to make the left turn onto 79th Street.  So don’t tell me people are paying much attention to the “stay at home” orders.  Up on the Northside of Indianapolis, there’s no reason why we couldn’t have reopened at the same time Hamilton County did.  I mean, literally, you can drive two miles north of where we live, it’s just as densely-packed, and everything’s open.  But down here?  Squat.  Stupid.  You can’t base this shit on arbitrary political lines drawn on a map.  You have to look at where the positive infection reports are coming from — and the last time I looked, it was mostly Center and Warren Townships, and maybe the southern parts of Washington and Lawrence Townships.  That’s not us.  But we’re shut down because we’re all in the same county.  Say, maybe they should have shut down by congressional districts, because we’re in the 5th on the Northside, and the rest of Marion County is in the 7th.  I mean, the lines are arbitrary, right?

Masks also appear to be getting worn haphazardly.  Idiots are still wearing them in cars, along with gloves.  Half the time the masks are riding below noses.  Most of the masks are cloth, meaning they’re absolutely useless for keeping the virus from getting in or out.  I still won’t wear one, and won’t patronize establishments that require them.

Meanwhile we’re seeing reports that the CDC has dropped its estimate of the COVID-19 death rate down to 0.23%, which means that fewer than four people in a thousand will die from contracting it.  So if my entire high school graduating class of just over 1,000 contracted COVID-19, and the revised CDC estimate held true, fewer than four would die from it, probably fewer than three.  And given that we’ve already lost 10 or 15 (or maybe more, I haven’t checked lately) classmates over the last 42 years, that’s kind of small change.  (Yeah, sure, not for the families of the deceased, but I’m trying to look at the overall picture.)

Oh, and if we just look at Indiana?  The total number of COVID-19-related deaths being reported today (as of 11:59 PM May 26) is 1,871, per the ISDH novel coronavirus site.  If we take a nice round number of 7 million as the population of the state of Indiana, we get a per-capita death rate of .00027 (or 0.027%).  If we look only at number of reported cases (32,437) vs. deaths (which is what the CDC estimate is), we get 5.7% — but that’s only the reported cases.  Because there’s another estimate out that suggests 80% of all COVID-19 infections may be asymptomatic (and therefore, unlikely to be reported).  Just google “80 asymptomatic” and you’ll find plenty of references to the new study that came out…yesterday I think.  So if the number of reported cases in Indiana represents only 20% of the total…that drops the likely fatality rate to 1.15%.

Then the question becomes, how much padding is the ISDH adding to the number?  How many deaths attributed to COVID-19 were inevitable already, but simply hurried along by the virus?  How many people had heart attacks or strokes or committed suicide simply because of the overblown media reports and the enforced idle time due to the shutdown?  Or because they lost their jobs and didn’t see getting them back?  Because the longer this thing stretched out, the more anxious a lot of people became, and there’s already an indication that the suicide rate is up as a result.  How many of these deaths are being counted incorrectly (on purpose or not) as COVID-19 related?

Look…this thing was not the original SARS (which didn’t affect the US to much of any extent — a few deaths were attributed to it, but by and large the thing had burned out before it got here) or MERS (which according to the CDC only ever infected 2 people in the entire country).  SARS-CoV-2 is clearly a much stronger strain of the virus, but it’s being dealt with and likely could have been stopped fairly easily without destroying the economy and throwing 20-30 million people out of work.

And it’s apparently fading fast, just like the other CoV’s did — an article yesterday suggested that vaccine development is hampered by a dearth of virus to test against:

https://www.smh.com.au/world/europe/low-virus-rate-leaves-oxford-vaccine-trial-with-only-50-percent-chance-20200524-p54vvu.html

https://pjmedia.com/news-and-politics/stacey-lennox/2020/05/26/vaccine-development-threatened-as-covid-19-infections-decline-n428072

So all you fucking politicians out there saying we can’t possibly open things back up without a working vaccine need to shut the fuck up and get to work opening back up without one.

And if there’s a resurgence?  (Unlikely unless the Chinese inject more into the system.)  Don’t try to shut things down again like you did this time.  Unless you really want to start a boogaloo.  Because we’re not going to stand for it again.

I hate to be a wet blanket

but Memorial Day is next Saturday, regardless of what the Federal Government says.

I. The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet churchyard in the land. In this observance no form or ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.

General Order No. 11, John A. Logan, Commander-In-Chief, Grand Army of the Republic, May 5, 1868

I’ll have something appropriate then.

Sixth Anniversary

Way down
I’ve been way down
Underneath this skin
Waiting to hear my name again

I’m sorry
Nothing can hold me
I adore you still
But I hear them calling
And nothing can hold me

Way down
All the way down
I will hear your voice
But I’ll no longer understand

I’m sorry
Nothing can hold me
I adore you still
But I hear them calling

I was looking to the sky
When I knew I’d be swimming home
And I cannot betray my kind
They are here, it’s my time

I’m sorry
Nothing can hold me
I adore you still
But I hear them calling, calling
And nothing can hold me

A break from Wuhan Virus to thank an old blog friend for very kind words.

Something that has been keeping me sane for the last few weeks has been plugging away on the novel I’ve been writing since 2016 (and which I finished in draft this past Wednesday night).  But this post is not about that book, it’s about a short story I wrote, and the nice things someone said about it.

And it’s nice to write a post and not be angry for a change 🙂

Around the middle of March, I had a very vivid dream.  I don’t remember most of my dreams, probably because I simply don’t sleep well to begin with, but it’s possible the combination of a CPAP machine and a dose of melatonin at bedtime have combined to allow me to sleep well enough to start dreaming in a meaningful way.

(Before the CPAP, dreaming usually meant nightmares, generally ending with falling off a cliff or out of an airplane or off of a tall building…well, you know…and waking up before I hit the ground, covered in sweat, gasping for breath.  Turned out when I was tested that I was waking up something like 66 times an hour due to my soft palate collapsing and not being able to breathe through my nose.  With the CPAP machine for the last five years, it’s more like 3 or 4 times a night, if that.)

So the bottom line was, I woke up, remembered the dream, and the characters and what they were doing were so present in my mind, I had to write it.  The characters were demanding that I write it.  And they would not leave me alone.

One problem:  It was fantasy.  And as it turned out, it was 11,000 words of fantasy.

Jack Randall knew immediately something was off when he pulled up to the old roadhouse.

Little did he know that crossing paths that night with the establishment’s beautiful bartender and her handsomely-rugged boyfriend/cook would lead to him recalling his former life as a god – or fighting a rematch with the god who had stolen his memories.

Fantasy is not my métier, by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve never spent a lot of time reading it, and certainly never entertained any notion of writing it. I’m usually too hard-headed to enjoy stories about magic. There are exceptions, but not many.

But because I have a sort-of mentor who is an established SF/fantasy writer, who says, “Write your dreams,” I had to take that to heart.  I wrote it; it took about a week and a half, then I cleaned it up and made a cover for it, and it’s been up on Amazon for about two weeks as either a $0.99 “buy it” or a Kindle Unlimited “download it for free and read it”.

And when I mentioned it on Facebook, the blogger you may know as Brigid from Home On The Range bought it, read it, and (from what she said about it) loved it.  And she’s been kind enough to say nice thing about it on her blog, as well.

I was simply floored, and was speechless for a while (and those of you who know me know that’s sometimes difficult to achieve with me).  So thank you, Brigid.  I am more grateful to you than I can express.

Here is the story.

Only $0.99 to buy, or read with Kindle Unlimited.

Direct link (If you’re on an iPad or something tablety or phone-y, you may need to go direct as the above iframe may not work for you.)

(Comments on this post are enabled for the usual two-week period.  You must register and log in to comment.  Sorry.)

Let me make a point about the lockdowns.

Basically, I thought two weeks just to slow the thing down was OK.  If you’ve been reading my posts for the last two months, you know I am losing patience with the fucking idiocy of our politicians and our government-beholden “experts” who will tell the politicians anything they want to hear in order to keep getting funded.

Throwing millions of people out of work without any end in sight and completely fucking up the supply chain by keeping things closed down for over two months has been a ridiculous overreach and abuse of power by government officials (I am extremely surprised Michigan’s governor is not yet swinging from a lamppost), and I don’t give a shit who you are or what side of the question you come down on.  That includes people I consider friends.  THIS NEEDS TO STOP.  IT NEEDED TO STOP SIX OR SEVEN WEEKS AGO.

Comes now a guy who is a professional epidemiologist and for 20 years headed up a department called Biostatistics, Epidemiology, and Research Design at The Rockefeller Institute’s Center for Clinical and Transitional Studies who a) is NOT the media’s darling Dr. Fauci and b) says we got this completely wrong and we need to open up now.  You can read what Knut Wittkowski has to say here.

So besides Senator DOCTOR Rand Paul explaining to Dr. Fauci why he’s wrong last week, we’ve got this other guy also explaining why he’s wrong, and (among other things) why Sweden got it almost completely right (they should have locked down their nursing homes) and why we have gotten it so stupidly wrong by arbitrarily locking down everything (except we didn’t really — how many of you have “essential” jobs or can work from home?).

In essence, we gave away our rights — temporarily?  Jury’s still out on what happens if this comes back for another season — for a mess of pottage.

It’s time to be done, time to go back to living, and time to repair the damage we’ve done to our country, our economy, and our people.  And to stop putting our trust in government bureaucrats masquerading as experts while they line up at the government trough to be fed.

Fuck your virtue signaling.

All y’all feel free to wear masks that don’t do anything to stop the virus. My allergies are so damn bad right now, I can barely breathe to start with, so I won’t be wearing one. I very nearly can’t wear my CPAP at night at this point, and that’s supposed to HELP me breathe.

Stick your virtue signalling cloth masks where the sun don’t shine.  And your N95 masks you’re probably not wearing correctly, too.

Any stores requiring masks will not be benefiting from my patronage when this is all over.  Or at the very least won’t be my first choice if there are other options.

Why I’m unmoved by the WuFlu Reaper

I was a late child of respectively, the youngest of four (my dad) and the younger of two (my mom). Dad was 34 when I was born, Mom was 31. My grandparents were all gone by the time I was 19. (My paternal grandmother died several years before I was born.)*

So I grew up with family dying around me. Almost all of my cousins are 10+ years older than me (and I’ve already lost two of them — one was in the submarine service back in the ’60s and committed suicide in the ’70s, the other — retired Navy LCDR — died of various and sundry ills at 58 in 2006.). All my aunts and uncles are dead, Dad’s dead, and Mom is 92 and getting frail.

The love of my life…before my wife came along 20 years ago, and even then (yeah, my wife knows, and she also knows I’m too straight-laced to stray)…died of lupus at 57, six years ago come May 20. I still haven’t fully dealt with her death. (She’s a character in my WiP, I think that’s how I’m doing that.)**

Another woman I dated years ago died at 51 in ’08. Cancer. Several ladies I knew in college went in their 40’s from cancer.

A couple of male friends died far too early in accidents or just from ill health.

My wife has had several close friends pass since we got married (including one she considered her sister of another mother — and that’s how we ended up with a grown-up “daughter” and grandkids), and she doesn’t understand how I deal with it so calmly when she goes all to pieces.

The love of my life I wrote about, up there? Didn’t/Couldn’t even shed a tear at her funeral. On the other hand, she was definitely in a better place, so that’s probably part of the reason why.

Gonna admit that I lost it when my Dad died. But only once.

The obituary pages, even before COVID, suggest I could go to funerals at least a couple of times a week.

Strangely enough, I know no one who has either had, or died from, COVID.***  At second-hand, there have been a couple of people whose deaths were attributed to COVID, but who likely died from something else that COVID just helped along.

At any rate…

Death has always been a part of life, as long as I can remember. I don’t know how it could have been any other way. Which is why I just frankly can’t be moved about the WuFlu. Especially since we seem to have been lied to from the start about how it was going to spread in this country.  As I keep trying to point out, there’s no way the lockdown “flattened the curve” to the extent that it has apparently been flattened.  There are too many people exempt from lockdown orders, too many cars on the road, too many people in the stores, and too much evidence that the lockdown orders didn’t make any difference anyway (and may have made things worse by hindering the development of “herd immunity”) for me to take any of it seriously at this point.

As Sarah Hoyt is fond of saying, “Olly olly oxen free!”  It’s May Day.  Take it back from the Commies and make it a day of freedom.

_____________

* A lot of people who know how old I am (and you will, here, in a moment, if you don’t already) are surprised when they find out my Dad fought in France in World War II.  He was drafted in ’43 and went to Europe in ’44.  He came back and went to college on the GI Bill, and didn’t marry my mother till ’51, and they didn’t have me until ’59.  My sister came along in ’61.  So our parents were about 10 years older than those of most of our schoolmates and other contemporaries.  If someone we knew had parents as old as ours, they usually had older siblings and were generally considered “the oops”. 🙂

** In case anyone is wondering, she took too long to say “yes” when she had wanted to for a long time, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Long story.  Her own fault, she knew it, and she told me later.

*** Which doesn’t leave out the possibility that they had it but were either asymptomatic or had a mild case that wasn’t identified as COVID.  For instance, I think I had a mild case of it back in November, 2019.  It’s been around a lot longer than most people think, since the fucking Chinese decided it was better to let it spread around the world rather than contain it back in September/October 2019.  Never trust China.  China is asshole.

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