Plague Journal (26): When we can go places . . .

We were talking about getting a new bird feeder. My wife said, "We'll get a new one . . . I mean, when we can go places . . ."

It seems kind of amazing how willingly people have accepted not being able to go places. I might have expected more resistance.

But maybe many people have come to feel a little like I do . . . it's kind of nice. I can get used to this.

But I am not downplaying all the hardship attendant on this situation for many people. The loss of work. The closed schools. Not to mention loved ones with the illness. Loved ones dying.

But as for me, yes, it has been rather pleasant. Sure, I wish I could go to a restaurant, the movies, a bookstore. But that's the worst of my problems. 

Meanwhile, the nation battles over which narrative to impose on events, to control the public understanding of what has happened, what is happening, and what will happen. To one group, Trump has done everything right, and anyone who would say otherwise is a dupe of the Fake News Media or possibly a socialist operator. This group is taking the initiative in blaming the virus on China, bad science, leading Dems like Pelosi and Schumer, and lately, Dr. Fauci. 

To another group, the narrative that must be enforced at all costs is that the blame must fall squarely on Trump. Both sides are massaging the data to enforce their narrative. 

Which all seems sad and even perhaps, in these times especially, evil. If the media is the well from which we draw up our information and, yes, our dominant narratives, then the well has been poisoned. It's not the least bit funny.