I’ve been getting more and more irritated by having to constantly wipe my glasses when I walk around with my flag mask. If I wear it correctly, I mean, with the steam engine-like nostril breath collecting and escaping and fogging the hell out of the lenses. As Ashley Judd said to Robert De Niro in Heat, “I’m sick of it, sick of it!”
It’s gotten so when I’m walking outside and a safe distance from other humans I just tug the mask below my nose…fuck it.
Don’t kid yourself — right now we’re living through the Second Great Depression. In late March I called it “a dystopian realm, almost a kind of On The Beach atmosphere…a low-security, self-policed concentration camp with wifi.” Except now things are a tad more liberal and semi-open. Toilet paper isn’t an exotic rarity any more. But we’re still “in it.”
Instead of bread lines we have masked citizens waiting in line outside supermarkets. Instead of Midwestern downmarket gangsters (Bonnie and Clyde, John Dillinger) holding up banks as a reaction to economic devastation, we have bumblefuck “open up!” protestors storming state houses and causing infections to spike. In many ways the same dynamic. The winter of our discontent.
Perhaps the biggest difference is that in the early ’30s FDR was in the White House, and today we have a sociopathic gangster-demagogue running things.