You know you’re dealing with a religious ritual when people wear the Holy Rag when no one else is nearby – or alone, in their car. Unless you believe you can catch the virus from your car – or spread it to it.
Or get it via the pneumatic tube at the bank drive-thru, as in the “case”of the woman in this video I’ve uploaded to Rumble because YouTube won’t allow such videos to be seen as it offends the Faithful.
I was behind her, in my car, waiting my turn at the tube. She got out of her car to get to the tube, which is understandable as the tube can difficult to reach, depending on the car you’re driving and also if you’re not especially flexible. What’s hard to understand is why this woman had her Face Burqa on while standing nowhere near anyone and so no one could breath the dread virus in her direction.
It is true there is air in the pneumatic tube and that air came from inside the bank, where it is possible asymptomatic super-spreaders might be breathing. But they are all exhaling through their Burqas, too – and if the Burqas “work” (in the medical sense, as we are told by the ecclesiastical authorities such as Pope Fauci XVII) then surely there is no need for the wearing of the Burqa at the other end of the pneumatic tube, since the air within has already been transubstantiated via the Holy Burqas within.
But, the “working” has a different meaning. It is the old meaning – when it meant something along the lines of casting a spell or performing a ritual. As in witches around the cauldron, toil and bubble.
Alone in her car. Well, not really alone. She has her Rag to comfort her – and protect her from the virus emanating from her car. Perhaps she is “doing it for” the car, to keep it safe and show respect.
It’s all for the common good!
In saner times, people such as the ones pictured would have been objects of pity – and of therapy. They would have been urged to seek help. In today’s times, the condition of these sick people is being normalized while sanity is being pathologized. The sickies do not regard themselves as sick and regard us – the sane – as dangerous.
This is literally like giving the keys to the nuthouse to the inmates. Worse, actually, because the nuts would just take off, like Big Chief Brombden in One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Crazy though they might be, they were sane enough to know they were crazy and not insist that the sane share in their delusions, or else.
That’s what happens when sickness becomes a religion.
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