I want to go home.
For two months and counting we’ve been in this strange vacation in a not very comfortable place. That’s fine. I’ve gone on vacation to places where life isn’t every easy even if you have plenty of money. That’s okay. BUT not forever.
I miss my country where I don’t have to worry about going to the grocery store and finding it stripped of basic items. Where I don’t have to worry about whether or not there will be meat this fall. Or enough to feed my family, no matter how much money we make.
I miss my country where morality police don’t stand around making sure the right body parts are always covered and can’t scold you and shame you for not following the irrational precepts of their religion.
I miss my country, where no petty bureaucrat or (probably crookedly) elected politician can tell me I can’t work, I can’t shop, I can’t live my life as it very well pleases me.
I miss my country where cancer screenings, heart surgery and other blessings of modern medicine aren’t “non-essential” and can be withheld at the mercy of some bureaucrat whose increasingly more insane commands are completely divorced from scientific reality, but he wants to make sure you jump when he says “frog” before he lets you have a little more of your life back.
I want to go home where my fellow citizens had stopped believing anything the MSM said, the same MSM they now believe with gaping jaws and credulous eyes.
I’m tired of this. This country is much like every country in the world.
And I know — none better — what you’ll say about my complaints. It’s the same thing Americans have been told by Europeans (and never mind Africans or Asians) for decades “You’re soft” “You’re pampered” “You’re not willing to forego your comfort for the greater good.”
Well, damn right I’m not.
You see, in this weird nightmare country, as in the rest of the world, the self-proclaimed “elite” don’t have to endure any of these things. Nor do they. They don’t wear masks while shopping and risk asthma attacks or asphyxia. They don’t postpone their medical procedures. Hell, they don’t postpone their haircuts, their trysts, their travel. Because they’re the ones who dictate, not the ones who are dictated to.
In my visit to France, I found myself in a first class carriage from Nice to Paris, which yes, costs a lot, and where we were put in a compartment where the air conditioning was broken. Six hours, in blazing sun. The windows didn’t open, and the temperature rapidly climbed to the hundreds. A thing for which the remedy was to hand out bottles of water.
Our protests were met with “yeah, it’s been broken for a while, but we haven’t got around to fixing it. No, there are no other seats.”
Finally, in desperation, husband and I looked at each other and went one to each end of the carriage and held the doors open, so the temperature wasn’t in killing range.
Later on at the airport, where they singled me out for interviewing (no, I have no idea why) the gentleman interviewing me asked how I’d enjoyed the ride and I told him. He said it had been broken for years, and he was always afraid of being put in that carriage, and “I wish you’d write to them. They might listen to tourists more.”
This is France a thoroughly western, first-world country, but they endure this type of sh*t as thought they were peasants beholden to feudal Lords, from whom all goodness comes.
Look, I’d endure this crap if there were any expectation of its being temporary. A vacation is a vacation. I’d endure it if it served some purpose. If we were in a real war, and it were necessary to save our paper or whatever, in order to fuel the war effort, sure.
But this “Battle against Winnie the Flu” is basically just for show. None of it makes sense. You’re magically protected if you wear a mask which doesn’t really stop anything but droplets. (Don’t get close enough to strangers to be sneezed on. It’s not that far. Also most people cover their mouths.) The outside is magically dangerous (despite the virus not surviving sunlight) and therefore you’re “safer at home.” It’s very, very dangerous to go to a hobby store, but a crowded grocery store is magically safe.
Yes, I know we’re being propagandized by the MSM, and that people who believe it are acting like sheep, but dear Lord, at which point do they realize there are no bodies piled on the streets and that what they’re being told is a load of mumbo jumbo?
Is it going to take years, as it did for the climate hysteria to be discredited?
Because I don’t know if I can tolerate this bizarre vacation for years.
The whole point of the US is that the individual, the common as dirt, foot in the muck working person is as worthy of respect and comfort as those in administrative capacities.
The point of the US is that there are no commoners, there are no elites. We’re all Americans, from whose consent the government derives their authority.
I don’t remember consenting to have my civil rights stripped away. Did you?
I did not consent to being the same as the rest of the world and having to submit to irrational dictates. Did you?
They say we can’t go home again. That this is the “new normal”and we have to get used to it.
I say they’re full of shit.
I want to go home. There is no other place in the world like my home, and I did not consent to have it destroyed in the name of fighting what amounts to a perhaps slightly more lethal cold virus.
I say we need to push the morality police’s nose in.
Olly olly oxen free. Be not afraid.
Build under, build over, build around.
Ignore the busies are their irrational orders. We’re Americans, and we don’t consent to being ordered around like cattle.
Talk some spine into the fainting violets. And show them by example too.
Keep the candle burning in the window. Let us get back home.