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Reverie

Of the uninfected or yet to be tested, the people struggling most are those more codependent on the world around them. The *most* dependent, the flaky upper crust, were trillion’d up in advance with our taxes, first in line for testing, Tammy Faye Bakker tears from pundits, etc.

Their spokes-models and minstrels sing for us, through the web, because the show must go on. The more truly independent a lifestyle or mindset though, the more this really is merely another day/week. Entertain or be entertained was never much of an option.

Behind a paywall FT has an article about increased traffic potentially affecting more bandwidth than just the gaming platforms, just when more and more persons rely on this web for distractions and assurances from comforting voices in the abyss of modernity.

It was a horrible convenience this pandemic struck at a time of epic anti-establishment protests everywhere from Brazil to France to Venezuela, and China itself which saw over a million people taking to the streets to protest extradition and surveillance. These passions on hiatus now, as we own the web even less than we own the streets. Fate has shepherded us into quarantine both physical and virtual, like the containment spell of the pentagram on the floor of your neighbor’s basement, hidden under boxes and boxes of comic books. Our avatars and proxies are made voodoo dolls, the more invested in them the more power they hold over us. Our popular leaders are never bright enough to conceive such trappings, but opportunism fuels their own livelihoods.

Same as with IRL, none should dare mistake a bane for a crutch, a poison for an antidote, or a loneliness for an aberration. Listen to the solitude, it has less to gain from what it says to us than do the traveling salespersons of our culture working on commission.