“If you think it’s an unfair stereotype, don’t live up to it.”
— Chief Smitherman, The HERO Act
28 October 2021 — Did She Save Me?
Prior to January Ninth I was seriously considering taking the jab if Klint and Ojuxit thought that it would make them more comfortable around me. I didn’t believe that it was medically necessary, nor even wise, given my previous experimental vaccines, and my own naturally vigorous immune system. In fact, I thought, and still think, that the injection presents a greater risk than it mitigates (your mileage may vary), but I was in love, and I thought that it was a reciprocal relationship. On the Ninth I was informed that my ring been removed. Now that there’s no hope, there’s no point.
update 221009: A year or so more of data now, indicating spikes in myocarditis and Bell’s Palsy, and an alarming abundance of otherwise healthy young athletes dropping dead on the field, have done much to vindicate my fears, but nothing to mitigate my sadness. While I’d always expected to outlive them, based on our respective family histories and lifestyles and diets, I now expect even earlier demises for them than before. I guess on a practical level it makes no difference; I’m already without them. But, like Tarzan, I believe that “where there is life, there is hope.” I like to believe (contrary to the evidence) that reason will eventually win out over resentment and that people will come to their senses. In general, however, they tend to die before that.
230531 — My gratitude continues to grow daily. Those declining the jab are still experiencing zero side-effects from the experimental “treatment.” Whereas I, post surgery, remain healthier, stronger, and more vigorous than most ‘Mericans a generation or more behind me. I was squatting to admire a blossom at the park the other day and L’Historienne remarked, “I don’t think there are very many 67 year olds who can do that.” I pointed out that people my age (at the time) have been expressing their envy at my flexibility for at least twenty years. And it ain’t ’cause I’m in such great shape either. Sadly, it’s that most of the sheeple are complaisant, stupid, and fat. 230601 — And on the subject of gratitude, I’m still drinking Sykson‘s whiskey, thanks to Joguv‘s handing it over to me to keep it out of Sykson, who apparently could no longer handle his alcohol hobby. It’s cheap whiskey, hardly fit for sippin’, and ice barely helps, but it still goes nicely into that occasional late evening cup of coffee. Also the money helped a lot. The fact is, in strictly financial terms, I’m in much better shape for having known Joguv and Sykson and Klint and Ojuxit. I am grateful for them all, even as I continue to fear their particular wraths.