Monday, March 16 2020

Restaurants and bars close. The Dow teeters and then drops 3000 points. Recession looms. Got to hand it to the asshole, he won the last round. Maybe the back in time device was a little clunky?

When in doubt, make fun of them. That’s right, Covid, you heard me. I said suck my balls. Oh? What? Do you need me to spell it out for you? What are you slow or something? What did you ride the viral short bus? Did Sars and Mers pick on you? Well you probably deserved it you dumb son of a bitch. SUCK. MY. BALLS. And, hey, while we’re at it, welcome to the Northwest!

And my brain goes click boom bust and a few moments later I post this to facebook. A swing, a punch. The fight is on:

After my interview with myself yesterday (probably could have used another edit, but John Connor came by and asked to borrow some toilet paper), I did another interview this morning. It’s probably my least advisable post yet, but hey, since we’re on a war footing with a cold virus, I figured the dialogue is worth a shot. Know your enemy, as Sun Tzu says. Yep. That’s right. Posted below is my conversation with the coronavirus itself. Illuminating? I don’t know. True? Absolutely. Enjoy!

(We met in an empty classroom at Laurelhurst Elementary in Seattle and per agreement beforehand, the Coronavirus agreed not to infect me without my permission, and I agreed not to spray hand sanitizer in its general direction. We sat in two folding chairs, the virus made a vaguely shaped body, appearing to look sort of like a gangly teenager…colored red)

Me: well, uh, coronavirus, thanks for sitting down like this…there are lot of people who I am sure want to know more about you.

Coronavirus: yah brah.

Me: oh. Uh. Wow. That’s not really the response or tone I expected…

Coronavirus: it’s cool brah

Me: I guess, though, on the other hand, it makes sense. A world traveler like yourself. Open to all cultures and such…

(Indeed, the coronavirus’s general demeanor reminded me very much of a few hostel-goers I’d met in my youth…)

Coronavirus — tha’s right brah.

Me: so…uh…I guess, I’m sorry I just find this a little bit unnerving, I really pictured something a little bit more aggressive, mean…maybe jittery…

Coronavirus: Got to just follow the road brah.

Me: Right…right…so…um…Speaking of the road, you’ve been everywhere now. I’m interested to talk to you about that. What some of your favorite places have been, and other things. When I was younger I got to go to macchu pichu, it was really stunning…have you been?

Coronavirus: no, no pichu brah.

Me: oh well you should really check it out…it’s…wait, no, on second thought…

Coronavirus: no picchu, brah.

(As much as it was weirding me out to hear and picture the virus as some sort of hostel going backpacker, nevertheless I guess it fit, it certainly traveled on a budget and was young…so I decided to move on before he started reciting Bob Marley lyrics which would just be…pardon the pun…sick and wrong.)

Me: Okay, well, moving on, what should I call you, should it be coronavirus, or maybe I don’t know…covid?

Coronavirus: Covid cool brah.

Me: Covid, great, well, welcome to our planet. Uh…got to say, a lot of people aren’t so excited to have you here. But, you’re here, we love this planet very much, the human species, and would like to co-exist somehow…

Covid: right brah.

Me: Maybe it might set things on a good footing with the rest of us to hear some of your favorite sights you’ve seen…what have you liked?

Covid — penne.

Me: I’m sorry…

Covid: penne. Penne brah.

Me: Oh, you mean pasta?

Covid: penne brah.

Me: you like pasta, like in Italy?

Covid: penne in Italy brah. Penne.

Me:okay, um…well, I haven’t been to Italy.

Covi: go brah.

Me: Well I’d like to but see there are travel restrictions now that you’re here, and Italy has shut down, tourist sites are closed, one of the reasons I wanted to talk with you was to maybe help you understand some of the things that are happening and perhaps find a common…

Covid: penne.

Me: what?

Covid: penne brah.

Me: okay…

Covid: penne, penne, penne. Brah.

(I didn’t know where this was headed so figured it was time to change the subject.)

Me: So, okay. Cool. Got it. Well we have penne in Seattle too. Is that why you came here? I know a lot of Seattleites are curious… What made you choose Seattle as your first u.s. destination?

Covid: Penne.

Me: I’m not sure what that means, penne, in this context.

Covid: penne, penne, penne…(as covid speaks, billions of virus particles shape themselves into the number 24)

Me: 24?

Covid: penne, penne…(Covid’s particles reshape themselves into the outline of the seahawks logo).

Me: oh! 24. What like a jersey number? I get it. You’re a marshawn lynch fan?

Covid: Yah brah.

Me: oh, cool, me too. Do you rout for the Seahawks then?

Covid: nah brah.

Me: um, then you just like Marshawn?

Covid: yah brah.

(At this point covid infected me, moved my arm and hand until I went to youtube and turned on the beastquake run on my phone. Then, kindly enough per our interview requirements, uninfected me. It was a strange feeling.)

Me: You like this run?

Covid: me brah.

Me: Well, right, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk with you about, covid, if the pleasantries are over.

Covid: you saints, brah.

Me: well, I mean, no…we are in Seattle after all, so it seems if we were anyone we’d be the Seahawks, and you’d be…i don’t know…the Pittsburgh steelers in 2006. Except this time we’re going to win.

Covid: nah brah. You saints, brah.

Me: Well, look, let’s just square this away then, because if anyone is reading this, I am sure this is what they’re waiting for us to get to…how can we co-exist.

Covid: you saints, brah.

Me: well, look, I’ve taken the position that we can’t defeat you…

Covid: yah brah.

Me: that you are a cold virus

Covid: that’s harsh, brah

Me: And that we shouldn’t blow up civilization in a misguided attempt to declare war on something as fluid and…well…guerilla…as a virus…much like declaring war on drugs and some vague notion of terror was…and still is…idiotic.

Covid: you talk a lot brah, lots of room for me to go in your mouth brah. Penne.

Me: okay, well, look, you’re kind of being a dick.

Covid: yah brah.

Me: so, is it possible for us, somehow,to co-exist peacefully, or at least in some kind of detente.

Covid: nah brah.

Me: why not?

Covid: penne

Me: what does that mean

Covid: penne.

Me: could you explain yourself?

Covid: penne

(At this point covid said penne for three minutes and it was weird almost like some little song, but all off key, and it gave me a headache. Like listening to way too much grateful dead from a hippy uber driver who believes he was put on this earth to spread the dead and make sure jerry lives on.)

Me: okay, okay, okay! I get it. This is what you were made to do. Your purpose.

Covid: yah brah.

Me: well that sucks

Covid: nah brah.

Me: this is not turning out good, I was hoping for some sort of connection, or understanding…

Covid: this isn’t no artist workshop brah

Me: yeah, I know that. Still…

(At this point, it dawned on me what I was speaking to. Time to grow up, pal.)

Me: Do you feel any guilt for the people you’ve killed?

Covid: nah brah.

Me: why not?

Covid: penne.

Me: that is a pasta.

Covid: penne.

Me: speak English dammit, explain yourself

Covid: penne, penne, penne.

Me: I’m asking you, I’m here trying to…

Covid: penne.

Me: you kill to eat?

Covid: yah brah

Me: you kill to survive?

Covid: yah brah

(It was at this point that I realized I was looking at a true barbarian. A stone age creature without a limbic system, frontal lobes — devoid of imagination or empathy or love.)

Me: you kill because that’s who you are

Covid: like the godfather brah.

(This reference to the godfather for some reason made me both uncomfortable and angry. Who the fuck is a virus to compare himself to Marlon Brando?)

Me: you know, we’re killers too.

Covid got quiet.

Me: we kill lots of things.

Covid now seemed uncomfortable.

Me: we killed the plague. You call yourself beast mode, well we killed the Jim Brown of diseases, you know that.

Covid now seemed interested in looking out the window

Me: and we killed polio, and the measles, and chickenpox and small pox. We killed them too. You think you’re beast mode, we have the actual real beast mode. Marshawn is with us.

Covid: that hurts brah.

Me: it’s true. You sure you want to fight us? We might just fuck YOU up…brah.

(I can’t explain it. I just got so mad. The asshole comparing himself to Brando. A bug, a fucking bug…No sir. No. Sir.)

Before I knew what was happening, a bell rang somewhere and an announcer said something about in this corner, and in this corner and the next thing I knew we were fighting. But as I moved in to lay one on Covid the nebulous vague shape before me splintered and dissipated into smaller and smaller fragments until the air was filled with tiny virus particles that slowly filtered through the room and disappeared. They were all around me. An invisible hurricane. And then a voice rang out, from all around.

Covid: nah brah.

I saw I had two choices — I could swing and miss and end up falling down and hurting and/or hitting myself…or I could sanitize the shit out of everything in the room, killing the plants, damaging the chairs, wiping out my computer monitor and hard drive, breathing it in myself…and it all seemed to just lead to…

Covid: Dukka, brah.

I sat down and waited for Covid to reappear. He had a little smile on his…face (?). It was annoying. And for the first time I wanted this interview to be over. What was I doing wasting my time here? Dipshit, penne-repeating, reptile brain fuck. Who is he to take up my time? Who is he to take up my life? My society? Getting all pretentious with his dukka brah. The image of him backpacking through Asia with some co-eds from a university in Poland…all of them excitedly discussing a point in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance…flitted through my brain and I wanted to scream, just shake it out. Uggh!

Shit, I said. If we agreed that terrorists weren’t going to alter our way of life, if we said we’d overcome opium and god knows what else, what the hell am I doing here, for one second, talking with a cold virus? I got things to do. Stupid idiotic conversation anyway. Yah brah. Dukka brah. The tye-dye wearing poser.

So I got up, said a few pleasantries and left…without shaking hands. What can I say? Based on my time with him, Covid came across like the annoying, pestering dipshit uncle at the family reunion who just might, if you don’t keep a watchful eye on him, steal your iphone and hit on your wife. Other than that, the less attention paid, the better. Otherwise he’ll monopolize your time, take over your agenda, drag you down to his level…the stupid backpacking, wanderlusting nihilist asshole. Meanwhile, I’m going to make sure he gets nowhere near my grandpa while sanitizing the hell out of everything…And that’s that. I still don’t know what to make of the fact that he likes Marshawn, other than Lynch really is a stud whose legend just keeps growing.

Beast!