My trust and love list.
My trust and love list.
Decided not to post it.
I thought about putting together a list of the people I still care for and trust after my first year of house-arrest, but decided not to do it.
If it’s true that the last year has been mostly about the U.S. government removing Constitutional protections of Americans’ human rights, for the purpose of weakening the population as a prelude to the introduction of more totalitarianism, then the last thing anyone should do is publicly demonstrate that they still care about and trust anyone out-of-Government-authorized-bounds.
Human social connections have already been weaponized.
The U.S. government — especially blue state governors — have already made clear that the highest expression of love is to stay the fuck away from other people.
Those governments have made equally clear that the second highest expression of love is to inform the local authorities, now including shopkeepers in addition to local police, if you see or hear of anyone violating or even questioning the wisdom of the first rule, about staying the fuck away from other people.
Everyone’s breath is presumptively physically toxic to bystanders, and any skeptical thought is presumptively mentally toxic to those who might hear it. By government decree, I’m a thinking, walking, talking toxic wasteland.
The third-highest expression of love is to bear in mind at all times that Covid defines everything about everything, including everything about every past, present or future social bond: the disease itself foremost, followed immediately by how each person experiences and weights the dual threats of Covid and government lockdown mandates.
As a personal example, I fantasize regularly about beating in my brother’s skull with a baseball bat, because he is a Covid-authoritarian who fully endorses the lockdown policies; I think the lockdowns have saved zero lives while also being the most horrific public health and governmental legitimacy catastrophe in America’s history; he has complete contempt for my views; and his side has been winning almost all of the public risk-benefit behavior battles for a year.
There is nothing left of the sibling relationship we had before lockdown. Covid has eclipsed everything. And that’s just one relationship between two individuals. Multiply it by millions all across the world, and the scale of the erosion of trust becomes overwhelming.
This is what totalitarianism means. It’s the subsuming of the massive complexity of millions of individual human experiences of life, into the singular worldview permitted by the government and reproduced in countless daily interactions among the controlled population.
I recognize that fantasizing about brutally killing my brother is not healthy. And I also have no intention of getting psychological help to work through my rage in ways that might be healthier.
I perceive the psychotherapeutic profession, along with the medical profession and the scientific research profession, as having enlisted in the governmental psycho-medical war on the population. I perceive the members of those professions as endorsing Covid panic and dehumanizing policy responses. But I regard Covid panic and dehumanizing policy responses as insane. The power dynamic between a Covid-authoritarian psychologist or social worker upholding the government position, and someone like me, aggressively in opposition to Covid-authoritarianism, seems unproductive at best, with a high potential for far more evil outcomes.
So instead of getting professional help for my rage, I just stay the fuck away from my brother. Not hard. He lives several states away and I now hate him.
At the same time, I fantasize constantly about enjoying a potluck at my house with my own immediate family and a dozen of the people we formerly considered friendly family acquaintances. But I make no move to invite those acquaintances over, because I think all of them are Covid-authoritarians who would refuse an invitation and also condemn me as a heretic for even entertaining the possibility of spending time in each other’s physical company indoors and unmuzzled. Plus it would violate State College Ordinance 2152, and while I’m willing to flout that unlawful ‘law,’ I don’t think they are.
Setting that aside, I’ve lost my social skills, which have always been limited by temperamental introversion. Even being in a store and happening to see an acquaintance and having a two-minute conversation is exhausting. So the fantasy of a jolly potluck runs headlong into a vision of myself huddled quietly in a corner of my own house, eavesdropping on others enjoying companionship, but unable to participate.
To end on a note of gratitude, I’m grateful for my kids, and that my kids each have strong networks of friends, and that they seem well able to support and connect with each other on Zoom and Discord with occasional muzzled get-togethers. I’m grateful for my husband. I’m grateful for my dog.
I’ve said before and say again, my family members don’t share my views. Maybe that will provide them with a small amount of protection from the consequences of my outspoken domestically violent extremism if/when the jackboots or whitecoats come for me.
I’m also grateful for a couple dozen reporters and commentators whose work I see as evidence-supported, logically coherent and morally sound. Partial list for anyone who’s interested.
Next post is planned to be a close read of Judge William Stickman’s Sept. 2020 memorandum opinion in Butler v. Wolf that found Governor Tom Wolf and Health Secretary Rachel Levine’s initial Pennsylvania lockdown executive orders unconstitutional.
Stickman’s ruling was stayed in October, which allowed the winter executive lockdowns to proceed unimpeded by judicial checks.
The case is now making its way through the Third Circuit Court of Appeals, with a key brief due next Monday.
