A nation in freefall

I feel like I’ve fallen through a portal, like Alice in Wonderland tumbling down the Rabbit Hole. A member of the Oath Keepers was arrested was arrested in my sleepy little town just last week. Covid is morphing like the Terminator and 37% of Americans would rather quit their jobs than get vaxxed. Folks at the Capitol are traumatized from last year and left The Hill. The inflation rate is 6.8% (the highest since 1982), organic eggs are $6 a dozen (a hen might be cheaper in the long run), and I stopped looking at the gas prices long ago. My favorite chicken spot in Portland no longer sells chicken wings, they switched to drumsticks and consumers damn near revolted.  Shortages abound while prices rise and somehow COVID is to blame for it all.


The nation is in freefall, teetering on the edge of insanity. Folks think drinking urine is a COVID cure. Meanwhile Carrie Bradshaw fans are split on the Sex in the City reboot, dragging Mr. Big and crashing his Peloton comeback. Flip to C-SPAN and political battles about COVID rival Verzuz battles (Rand Paul vs Dr. Fauci, daily). While across the pond Boris Johnson is partying like its 1999, what pandemic?  The SCOTUS blocked the Biden administration vaccine mandate (with exceptions for some healthcare workers). And Texas made the news again, this time a tragic hostage situation at a synagogue. Am I the only one that senses mania in the body politic?


Our attention span bounces like Alice, from the Rabbit Hole to the Cheshire Cat to the Tea Party. Maybe it’s a protective measure against the tragedy du jour. After a steady diet of media mayhem, we need a glimmer of hope, a portal we can slip through into alternate universe, better than our present reality.





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