Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Yes, what else is there to talk about at the moment?  Some continuing reflections and observations.  Call it a Diminished Digital Decameron:

♦   Ol’ Robbo used to think he couldn’t despise the Mainstream Media any more than he did.  Message to the Press:  Coronavirus is not Hurricane Katrina, let alone Chernobyl 2, Disaster Boogaloo.  Deal with it.

♦   Tinfoil Hat I:  No, unlike some of the co-bloggers and commenters over at Ace of Spades HQ, I don’t think the coronavirus is a deliberate attempt by the Chinese to launch a bioweapon attack against us.  I do think it was either something that got out of a Chinese lab or else naturally mutated in the animal population and got into humans through some combination of awful hygiene and filthy environmental conditions (e.g., the “wet markets”) and spread accordingly.  With that, I firmly do blame China for this mess.

♦   Tinfoil Hat II:  I certainly think the situation is appealing to the basest instincts of every tin-pot authoritarian from HOA officers all the way up through state governors and many in the bureaucracy, who are far more concerned with power and control than with the general welfare.   And I do fear that the bar is being lowered for the next “crisis”.

♦   On the positive side, it seems to Ol’ Robbo that the situation is shining some much-needed light on such things as over-regulation of, for example, medicine and transportation, and the evils of globalization.  Will we learn anything and make changes accordingly?  Majick 8-Ball sez, “Reply Hazy, Ask Again Later”.

♦   On the Home Front, Youngest tried to sell us the idea that her school was making schoolwork “optional” while the kids are all home.  Swearsies!  Dr. Robbo diagnoses a case of Senioritis here, which is a much more powerful illness than coronavirus.

♦   Middle Gel is finding that despite the fact everyone is home, or perhaps because of it, the daytime babysitting market is extremely lucrative at the moment.

♦   With respect to the TP shortage, Eldest spotted a singleton twelve-pack on the shelf at Walgreen’s yesterday and brought it home in triumph.  I wish I’d invested in Kimberly-Clark.

♦   Telework I:  Our office is not actually locked up, but I’ve been informed rather testily that no, going in to water my plant is not mission-critical.  Sad.

♦   Telework II:  Ol’ Robbo is not one of those who can spend his entire day in robe and jammies, but I must say that I enjoy being able to shower and dress when I feel like it, not when the alarum-clock and commute dictate.  And, of course, pants remain merely optional.

♦    As somebody pointed out, we’re all going to die.  But very few of us are going to die any time in the near future, and of those, very, very few are going to die of this bug.  That’s been my attitude from the beginning and nothing that I’ve seen suggests altering it at all.  Keep calm and carry on.

Well, that’s it for now.  Ol’ Robbo hasn’t been out of the house in almost a week, so tomorrow I plan to hit the hardware store and Total Bev as much for the change of scene as for replenishing supplies.  (If there are any, that is.  We shall see.)