I remember when I was a kid we were promised flying cars and videophones. Well, we finally got the videophones, and how do we like living the life of Zoom? And why do have this uncontrollable urge to put Kleenex boxes on my feet like Howard Hughes? Maybe it has something to do with solitary confinement. And flying cars would come in handy now to enforce “social distancing.” Incidentally, why hasn’t anyone floated the obvious conspiracy theory that this whole virus thing is a hoax designed to keep Handsy Biden from indulging his hair-sniffing grabby ways?
Headlines of the week:
Isn’t this a plot point in a Walker Percy novel:
And you just knew our blessed interlude from this annoying teen wouldn’t last:
And finally. . .
As a special bonus this week, I stepped up my trainspotting habit—bonus points if you can guess the rig I used: