!!!Science!!! vs. Science

Here’s a lovely article from American Thinker.  A sample:

Early on President Trump relayed the good news that a cocktail of Hydroxychloroquine, zinc, and Azithromycin showed great promise when given to newly infected patients.
An avalanche of political attacks immediately followed.  A myth, preached by Dr. Anthony Fauci, said the cocktail had no effect on the viral infection, that it actually was dangerous.  The FDA warned against using the long proven safe drug Hydroxychloroquine.  The respected medical journal, The Lancet, published (and later retracted) an article against its use.  No debate was allowed.  “Medical Science” proclaimed that the cocktail was useless.  Authoritarian State Governments banned its use.
Doctors on the frontlines knew otherwise.  My doctor specializes in infectious medicine.  All nearby doctors go to him when they get sick.  From the beginning of the epidemic he worked literally day and night to save lives.  Sometimes he failed.  Most times he succeeded.
I asked him if he used the Hydroxychloroquine cocktail and if it really worked.  He did, and it did.  He then surprised me when he used unexpectedly strong language to castigate Fauci and all those who had politicized the epidemic.

The rest of the piece is equally fine.

Our Texas Senator

“It’d make us feel better.”  — Snowflakery explained, in a single sentence.  And from the article itself:

“The idea that everyone must bow and do pointless things to make others feel comfortable regarding COVID has long expired.”

If It Saves Just One Life

Someone took me to task the other day because I still occasionally wear a face condom despite having been vaccinated against the Chinkvirus.  (Generally, I don’t anymore, unless some store flunky comes up and politely asks me to wear one, in which case I touch my face, assume a startled look, and put the stupid thing on.)

I put the face mask on because it saves lives.

Not “saving lives” in the sense of spreading the Chinkvirus, of course.  In my case, saving lives means that when a busybody gives me grief about not wearing one, I refrain from breaking his fucking neck, because (and this is an important point) some Karen is going to take umbrage at my behavior and call the manager.  (I think we can all see where this is headed.)  When I rinse and repeat by breaking his (and most likely her) neck, the cops are going to be called, there may be gun play, and people are probably going to die (myself included).

So my putting on a face mask saves lives — just not in the Fauci sense of the word.

Oops

Some wise man once wrote:  “To every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”  (Clearly, he never knew what happens when a wife catches her husband bonking her sister.)

Anyway, here’s the latest episode in the annals of “Whoa!  We never saw that coming!

Three million face masks are discarded every minute as a result of mass adoption during the coronavirus pandemic, and experts warn it could soon lead to environmental catastrophe.
Face coverings are being worn by the majority of individuals around the world in order to curb the spread of SARS-CoV-2, the coronavirus which causes Covid-19.
However, they pose a greater risk to the environment than carrier bags because of their ubiquity and the fact there is no way to safely decontaminate and recycle them.

It is, as the kids say, to LOL — and given the ways of the world, it should come as no surprise to anyone that the vast bulk of the face-condom trash emanates from the Third World (and most likely, from China withal).

So when you see me cooking hotdogs over a fire made from my face masks, you can rest assured “it’s for the environment”.

Here’s Why

For all those folks who have given me guff about having the Chinkvirus vaccine, here’s the deal:

I want to travel again, and soon.  If having the fucking jab means I get to travel again without having to “self-isolate” or any of that nonsense upon arrival, here’s my arm.  Ditto New Wife, who feels as I do.
Corollary #1:  New Wife is suffering from Extreme Grandchild Deprivation.  By the time she can travel to see and hold them (all for the first time), it will be in June.  Rule #1:  never get in Nana’s way when it comes to grandkids.
Corollary #2:  Somehow, some way, I want to get Over There so I can shoot birds with my friend Mr. Free Market later this year / before I die (whichever is appropriate).  As Britishland is in the grips of profound Chinkvirus hysteria, a vaccination certificate may alleviate their silliness and give me a fighting chance.

I’m sick and tired of having to wear a stupid, ineffective face condom.  Anything that allows me to tell the Mask Stasi Karens to fuck off is welcome in my body.

Given my lifestyle and health, the odds of me dying from Chinkvirus anyway have always been breathtakingly slim.  The vaccine isn’t for me;  it’s for everybody else.

I don’t give any credence to how the vaccination program is just another government trap to do something or other to me.  I heard all those whines when they decided to put fluoride into the public water supply .  Not one of those fears proved to be worth a damn back then, and this one is going to be the same.

All of which says one simple thing:  I’m not telling everyone to get the Chinkvirus shot;  nor am I telling anyone not to get the poxy [sic]  jab.  I’m letting everyone make their own decision, for their own reasons and their own purposes.

Kindly allow me to do the same.  I’ve taken far greater risks with my life before.

And if it ends up killing me rather than saving me, them’s the breaks.

Shot

New Wife and I had our anti-Chinkvirus shots yesterday.  Here’s my proof:

Now I want to have it silk-screened onto a couple white t-shirts, with the following statement:

Enough is enough with this timorous foolishness.