Thanks for the Woodpile link, Ghost. He links to an article there that may well be the most sane piece of writing about the Covid situation that I’ve yet see:
Talking about hospitals, I’ve been in two different ones this past week plus a doctor’s office in between (daughter choose an interesting time to break her arm). Ghost towns, everybody masked, nary a cough or sniffle to be heard anywhere. Weirdly, it’s not such a bad time to be hurt since there’s not much waiting going on, and the staff in all places have been great. The one we were at today supposedly had
a few covid patients somewhere, but nowhere near where we were. One more anecdote, from an area in SoCal that’s supposedly had a lot of cases.
Armstrong Economics has penned a letter to the President. This is very good. Three pages in length. Mailed April 13th to Trump, Powell, Mnuchin, McConnell, Scalise and a few others. These are surreal and dangerous times. To express even slight skepticism of the the full trajectory of this shut down, I receive scorn and revulsion from family, friends and neighbors. Sorry, there just ain’t enough dead lately to justify the dismantling of civilization. Whoops… I said it again.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
“Where to? what next?”
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New Wood Pile!
http://www.woodpilereport.com/
Thanks for the Woodpile link, Ghost. He links to an article there that may well be the most sane piece of writing about the Covid situation that I’ve yet see:
Inside The Hospitals & Why The Lockdown?
Talking about hospitals, I’ve been in two different ones this past week plus a doctor’s office in between (daughter choose an interesting time to break her arm). Ghost towns, everybody masked, nary a cough or sniffle to be heard anywhere. Weirdly, it’s not such a bad time to be hurt since there’s not much waiting going on, and the staff in all places have been great. The one we were at today supposedly had
a few covid patients somewhere, but nowhere near where we were. One more anecdote, from an area in SoCal that’s supposedly had a lot of cases.
Armstrong Economics has penned a letter to the President. This is very good. Three pages in length. Mailed April 13th to Trump, Powell, Mnuchin, McConnell, Scalise and a few others. These are surreal and dangerous times. To express even slight skepticism of the the full trajectory of this shut down, I receive scorn and revulsion from family, friends and neighbors. Sorry, there just ain’t enough dead lately to justify the dismantling of civilization. Whoops… I said it again.
https://www.armstrongeconomics.com/armstrongeconomics101/opinion/letter-to-president-trump-send-it-everywhere-you-can/
Chance of a shower? 100% for me (in the bathroom)!