I have never been happier that I work in a fantasy world of
my own making. Though that world teems with rougarous, ghosts, demons, and paranormal
menaces of all sorts, I much prefer it to the lunacy and fear-mongering of the
real world.
I love to hear people tell me how they plan to vote for the
petty tyrants who closed the world to keep us all safe. That people will buy
the most ludicrous lies and reward the teller of them is a signal my fiction will
never lack for readers.
I am inspired by mothers with five or six kids who wear a
mask to Wal-Mart leaving the children unprotected. Such callous disregard for
children, especially one’s own, means the market for torture, mayhem, and death
is alive and well.
And the mysteries of intelligent selective, viruses…well,
Captain Tripps has nothing on the possibilities opened by the hysteria virus
pandemic, and the inhumane interpersonal treatment it may spawn.
I’m not sure if it’s my father’s oft-spoken admonitions to
think for myself or my nursing background’s insistence that I think critically
that makes me shake my head in anger and frustration at the blind followers of
the blind who surround me.
Tell me if you can, how a virus (without a brain) differentiates
between a ten-year-old and an octogenarian. How does it distinguish between
eleven o’clock at night and midnight? How does this virus tell which businesses
are family owned and which belong to those which contribute millions to
political campaigns?
Then there’s the conundrum--if masks soundly defeat the
virus, why do we need to stay six feet apart while wearing them? And, if there
is magic in six feet why, wear a mask when the nearest person is a dozen feet
away?
As a writer, my editor would never let me get away with
these inconsistencies and incongruent behaviors in my fiction. Happily, they
are readily accepted in reality because, well, the governor says so. Maybe
truth really is stranger than fiction.
That being the case, I will stick with fiction where things,
though twisted and macabre, make sense and logic is the rule. Here in the land
of fiction there is no call to choose between having a function mask and a
functioning mind.
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