Shit’s really messed up now. I’ve been anxiously hiding out at home, peeking out the window wondering how things can look so normal yet be so off. There are those moments where everything just seems okay enough, that maybe I forget for a second what’s happening.
We’re still in the middle of it, even though the term light at the end of the tunnel keeps getting trotted out. Hell, we might still be in the beginning. Chapter One hasn’t ended yet, and the capitalist beast is rattling its cage, urging and yearning to be let free.
I have faith that medical science will beat the shit out of this thing, but I don’t have faith that the gravitational pull of the status quo won’t tear us apart first.
Shit’s scary. I get it. We’re all swimming through a boiling pit of anxiety, slurping down litres of fear with each hurried gasp. Normal is a beckoning comfort zone, it’d be so nice to just hop over, get all cozy. Hmm, normalcy.
That’s not going to happen, not until we have either a vaccine or an efficient treatment. But everybody reading this already knows that. Too bad the people jettisoning us into the fire don’t.
Ten years ago, I joked with a friend that in the future we’d all be wearing colourful gasmasks. I thought pollution and climate change would get so bad that masks would become a necessity, and people would eventually gravitate towards customizing their masks. In a weird roundabout way, I kind of ended up being right but also super wrong.
Now, I worry we’re careening toward a disaster. Chapter Two could end up a whole lot worse than Chapter One. I hope I’m super wrong about that too.
I’ve seen some praise for Canada’s response, and I’m definitely happy this is the place I live right now. But I’m reluctant to call it a resounding success. It feels more like we’ve been tapdancing on the edge of stable, just managing to keep things under control. One misstep and we’re plunging into the fiery depths of catastrophe. It’d be nice if the capitalist beast stopped poking and prodding us.