Today – just a few hours ago – I witnessed the ne plus ultra of “masking” psychosis.
I was at the gym, doing some triceps pull-downs on the universal machine. Another guy – he looked to be in his 30s – approached the machine, wearing his special protective face amulet. This, by itself, is no longer remarkable and likely something we’ll be seeing for years to come, if not forever. A large percentage of the population has been so PTSD’d by two years of it’s-gonna-get-you “reporting” about the “virus” that they will never have the courage to remove their special protective face amulet.
He wore it – until he was ready to do a set. Then he removed it. Did a set. Breathing in – and out – while he did it. Then pulled the rumpled, probably snot-shellac’d special facial amulet from his pocket and reinstalled it.
I watched him do this routine three times.
Try – it is hard – to imagine the thought processes of such a person. The dread “virus” is in the air; the facial amulet wards it off, so the wearer believes. But then, he takes it off. Inhales and exhales, unprotected by his holy amulet. Does he think the “virus” enters a kind of holding pattern while he finishes his set? Like in the old Road Runner cartoons, where the swarm of bees would just freeze – briefly – before stinging poor old Wiley Coyote?
He caught me looking at him. I made the following sound, figuring it might sound familiar to him:
He just looked at, very much like the sheep in the video above.
And they ask me why I drink . . .
. . .
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