Category: Disaster

Wait… You Mean This Is NORMAL?

Disaster, Gummint, Lies and Untruths

Hector Drummond (who is rapidly becoming my go-to guy in matters of Britishland Chinkflu stats) has some graphs*, and comes to this conclusion (my emphasis):

Even I am astonished by these graphs.  I was expecting to see something in the graphs by week 13, even if I wasn’t expecting anything scary.  But there’s just nothing.  And you can’t say the lockdown caused this, because the UK lockdown had only been going for four days by this time.  We’ve locked down the country for a supposed mass killer that still isn’t visible in the stats even after the lockdown was declared.  We locked the country down for something that at the time only existed in Neil Ferguson’s dodgy computer models.

Our numbers may (repeat:  may ) be better than the BritGov’s, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that our response to the Chinkvirus has been as overblown and pointless as theirs.

*I’m not sure, but I believe that “ONS” stands for Office of National Statistics.  Maybe one of my Brit Readers can confirm.

Sanity

Disaster, Gummint, Two-Minute Hate

Very long; well worth the read.  (Come on:  you’re shut up indoors with fuck-all else to do;  read  the damn thing.)

If just about all the diseased are old-timers and/or people set with preexisting diseases, the entire response to the pandemic, by individual countries as well as by the global community, may very well be one huge overreaction.
…
According to the video of a Frenchman who claims to have lived 25 years in Hong Kong, one part of the world (and of China!) that is experiencing a low number of deaths in spite of all, or most of, its businesses remaining open. What is the secret? Every single person in the street is wearing a mask.
…
A nationwide scandal erupted in France a week or two ago when a Nice Matin journalist interviewed a woman on the town’s rocky beach. Christiane was tanning in a bikini, and declared that she wasn’t about to give up the sun rays. The next day, the written press picked up the story. They would quote her remarks, only to mention with disgust to what extent she was irresponsible, and selfish, and a shame to her community.
Truth to tell, Christiane may have come across as a bit snobbish and self-centered, but there was just one problem. Christiane was almost entirely alone on Nice’s long rocky beach near la Promenade des Anglais. The beach was virtually empty of people. There were perhaps 3 or 4 sunbathers or sunbathing couples in the background, perhaps 50 to 100 meters away, but otherwise it was deserted. (Indeed, the only time that Christiane was in potential danger or that she was a danger to others was when the Nice Matin journalist showed up!)

Makes sense to me.  Instead of our local KrimPo (Kriminal-Polizei)  arresting people for sunbathing on a deserted beach, or buying “non-essential” products to take home, why don’t they just arrest, detain or fine people for not wearing a mask in public?

Oh, but that would be too simple, you see;  not enough incentive to bully and/or fine people or look into their shopping bags.

Fuck ’em.  At some point, the history of this sad era will be written dispassionately, and the overarching conclusion is going to be that we overreacted, massively, our economy was shut down for no good reason, and governments needed to print trillions of non-existent dollars to “bail” people and businesses out of trouble — when all we needed was several hundred million cheap paper facemasks, and a temporary public order for everyone to wear the damn things outdoors.

Cheers

Disaster, Food & Drink

Of course, it had to be a German:

While appearing on “The Morning Show,” Dr. Rissland was asked about whether or not drinking alcohol could kill any viruses a person may have ingested. “Yes, of course, that’s true,” Dr. Rissland responded. “And the higher the percentage of alcohol, the better it is. For example, if you are a whisky lover, then that certainly isn’t a bad idea,” he continued, while offering this bit of sage advice to pace yourself:  “But of course you need to bear in mind that you can’t do that every 15 minutes, that is something else to consider.”

Speak for yourself, mein medisches freund.  Actually, I think a half-mouthful of Scotch every quarter-hour is a little slow — to judge by the normal spirits-intake rate of several of my friends (Mr. Free Market, Doc Russia and Mrs. Sorenson, to name but three), and mine certainly doesn’t rank far behind.

I think the good doctor shouldn’t confine himself to just whisky / whiskey;  he needs to publish a list of high-alcohol beverages, as a public service, of course.

Needless to say, the fuckheads at the WHO disagree strongly with his considered medical opinion.  But I ask you, O My Readers:  whose opinion would you rather trust:  a conscientious, methodical German doctor, or the idiots who brought you too-late-breaking news of the Chinkvirus?  I don’t think it requires that much thought, really.

The only question remains:  Scotch, rum or brandy?

Not Grasshoppers

Disaster, SHTF, The Gun Thing

From Shooting Times:

Between private conversations with firearm, ammunition and optic manufacturers over the past two weeks, along with public information disseminated by major gunmakers, I am fairly certain a major disruption in the supply chain for those products and likely many more is coming, and coming soon.

Read the whole thing.

And this, my children (he explained for the thousandth time), is why we gun owners need to have not only a plentiful supply of ammo, but also of guns.

Ant and Grasshopper story (executive summary):  buy and lay in stocks during Times Of Plenty, so that when the Lean Times come busting in through the front door, you don’t have to beg for anything from anyone.

This is as true (or more so) for guns as it is for any other household product.

I Know How You Feel

Bad News, Disaster

Sent to me by Mr. Free Market:

Truly, a sad situation.

Mr. FM is of course self-isolating, but there’s self-isolation, and then there’s self-isolation in Free Market Towers:

And the Free Markets are adapting, as any Stout Bulldogs will.  I’m told that Mrs. FM now uses a 6-foot bullwhip to administer the servants’ weekly flogging, so as to observe the proper degree of social distancing.