Ammo Grrrll declares 2020: A YEAR FOR THE BIRDS! A Review. She writes:
JANUARY – Who the hell remembers? I think we had lives back then, outings, travel, jobs. Stuff happened on different days. There WERE different days. People got together. People drank in bars and ate in cafes. The economy broke all records. Good times, good times.
FEBRUARY – The CANARY in the Mine
While the Democrat felonistas were busy impeaching the President to postpone as long as possible arrests for their failed coup, some disturbing chatter started appearing about a bad flu in China. Could it spread here? What could we possibly do to lower the odds? Certainly not prohibit travel from China because that would be RAAACIST. If it had originated in Norway, a prohibition would have affected mostly icky WHITE PEOPLE, which would NOT be RAAACIST though, evidently, “white” is a race too. But a bad one that’s okay to hate.
I asked a dear physician friend what he thought. He is a very smart liberal guy who, after 30 years in a Chicago ER, is tough to panic and here is what he texted me in late February: “Not much different than bad strains of the flu. My grandfather died in 1918 in the big epidemic in Chicago. Worse outcomes in the elderly with underlying disease. We should be ok.” An underestimate to be sure, but not as wildly off the mark as the CDC.
MARCH – The Season of the LARK
We were all in a pretty jovial, cooperative mood as we began The Great Hunkering. My kids had just left after a fun-filled, active, crowd-intense four days. We were led to believe that if we just sequestered ourselves for a couple of weeks we would “flatten the curve” and make sure that hospitals were not overwhelmed. No problem. I could feed an Army for a month.
Hey, it’ll be FUN, kind of a lark! Stores offered an early one-hour Geezer Time to make sure the elderly weren’t knocked over by the young and fit stampeding the toilet paper aisle. Photos circulated of Venezuela-level empty shelves in stores. Any reasonably-soft white paper product that could be pressed into service as toilet tissue disappeared overnight, including paper towels, napkins, even Baby Wipes. Our gated community organized a weekly golf cart parade to get trapped residents to step outside for a few minutes on Sunday evenings to wave to their neighbors and feel slightly less isolated.
APRIL – The Year for the Birds drags on. And on. Month of the ROBIN
Spring is here, flu season is over, right? Right? So much Hope, so little Change! The virus does not like hot weather, we were told. (Haha. As I write this in July in 115 Arizona, new Ground Zero for infections, that seems like a particularly galling piece of misinformation.)
We were told NOT to try to buy up any existing masks – either the ones being hoarded by the ChiComs or the ones necessary to protect our health care heroes – and people got into some fairly clever improvisations. In fact, early on, we were told masks wouldn’t even help!
Various governors tried different kinds of economic reopenings. Virtually all the governors, except South Dakota’s Kristi Noem, bless her heart, started borrowing scripts from deadbeat divorced dads lying to their kids about when they would visit: “Yeah, no, really, this is the last week of the Lockdown, swearsies!” “When I said one more week, what I meant was one more MONTH. Some may have HEARD ‘week,’ but that was a mistake on the part of the mandatory sign language lady. If it saves just one life, nobody needs a job for the next two years…except sign language ladies. Who can’t live on $1200 til then?” And so on.
MAY – Riots and Looting, and Arson, oh my. VULTURE TIME
On May 25, 2020, George Floyd ended up dead in a confrontation with the Minneapolis police. Had the cop been black and Floyd a scrawny, white, toothless meth-head, we would have heard no more about it than we hear about the 30, 50, 100 black people shot in Chicago by other blacks every weekend. Instead thousands of vultures who did not know Mr. Floyd decided to pick his bones, pretending to grieve by looting Target in his name and torching 1500 businesses, many of them owned by black people. That’s what I always do when I’m grieving. Or need a new television.
JUNE, JUNE, TIME OF THE LOON
With major cities burning, statues being razed Taliban-style, screaming lunatics on freeways, cops told to stand down and let the thugs and criminals continue their terrorist reign, I thought maybe the grownups in America would weigh in. Ha! The Wokester PR flacks of virtually every corporation in America could not churn out pro-BLM boilerplate fast enough. In one day alone I got mealymouthed emails from my clinic, our favorite theater company and – wait for it! – The Desert Botanical Garden! All in virtual SUPPORT of the thugs. There is not one craven, cretinous statue-toppler who is worthy in any moral or intellectual sense to empty the chamber pots of any of the giants immortalized in those ruined statues.
JULY — The DODO BIRD was supposed to be extinct. But it’s making a comeback in the form of unhinged white women screeching at conservative black men that they don’t understand about racism. Earlier a senile old hair-sniffing creep told black people if they don’t vote for him, they “ain’t black.” Could any out-and-proud white supremacist have fashioned a more disrespectful or embarrassing speech? He has recently announced that he is Joe Biden’s husband and he wants you to vote for him. Hey, if Dennis Rodman can marry himself, why not Joe Biden? Personally, I would vote for Dennis before Joe. At least Dennis can rebound. Joe Biden has never done a single useful thing in his entire life.
Priceless recent Rob Reiner quote: “On Nov. 3rd we’ll find out how many racists there are in the U.S.” Oh, no need to wait till then, Tubby. In the Democrat Primary, YOUR Party had plenty of People of Tan or Beige Protective Coloration to choose from, People with Elderly Lady Bits, People who Have Sex With People Like Themselves – and you ended up with two old straight white men. So stuff a sock in it, you insufferable, privileged blowhard.
AUGUST – OCTOBER the Faux Republican OSTRICHES try to suck up to BLM and Antifa in ways that would make Neville Chamberlain blush in the forlorn hope that they will still get to be on TV. NOVEMBER – Americans finally get to vote. The EAGLE lands again! Please, God.