The increasingly parochial observations of a casual runner in his fifties. Was "serious" about "the sport" until personal and sociocultural inevitabilities prevailed.

Thursday, May 21, 2020

A profile and stuff

The "stuff" I'm reluctant to post. None it is tawdry or quarrelsome, so fuck off if you came here for the goods or the antipathy. But like lot of people who maintain low-priority personal blogs, I feel as though I run the risk of not scaling what I say at this point in socio-virological  history to the broader, elephantine occasion. It is quite unlike me to care that different receivers process my electronic transmissions in different ways, and that at this time, the lives of parents, kids, anyone in the service industry, anyone who is pregnant, and countless other identities that flit in and out of my mind have already had to shift into completely different modes, and the disruptions are an added stress that at best recedes into the background while still exerting insidious effects on mood, judgment and other things. I had to cancel any serious plans I had for the rest of the year, but, while I was excited to go to Europe and elsewhere, it's not in the same category as an immediate transition to a new, uninvited existence. Worrying about being too far from some indistinct psychosocial center certainly defeats every purpose of a personal blogspace, but I think most people get it. And it's the only disclaimer you'll get from me, because Jesus Christ are you people a scattershot mess.

With that context in mind, the events and ideas I'll relate here -- crap that might be news to the handful of regulars readers in New England, Colorado and a few points yonder -- have been generated from a haphazard series of notes serving as the seeds of this entry, which is how I bet a lot of people do bloggery. That's my advance excuse for material that is out of order, outdated, flat-out incorrect or laughably inhumane.

Sunday, May 17, 2020

All good and bad puns involving respiration are taken

If you're using public recreation paths, unless someone has a cattle prod to your ass, you have consciously chosen to assume the known risks of being on those paths. Those known risks do not, at this point, include a statistically meaningful chance of becoming infected with COVID-19, assuming social distancing is maintained (and probably if it's not, although if you get within six feet of someone running or cycling when you don't need to, especially me and my dog, you're asking for it anyway, more in the form of slobber than irritation).

You can find this information in a lot of trustworthy places (example), which is really the point of this post: Try to avoid being scoldy when you don't know what the fuck you're talking about, even under the aegis of playing health nanny. Most of the noise in the world is made by people who have no idea what they're talking about, and adding to the chorus only helps cement the status of the U.S. as a religion-crazed, dipshit-happy armpit, or if you prefer a more sanitized analysis, a formerly proud nation now in an unfortunate and precipitous decline. (As someone honorably discharged from the U.S. Army, I can use my service as a shield to say whatever I want about the United States and applauded for it, like everyone on Twitter claiming to have had a limb blown off in Afghanistan.)

If you are telling people "Wear masks anyway," you make just as much sense as someone warning you about catching AIDS or getting pregnant from contact with toilet seats, and people who have in fact attempted to gather trustworthy information on the issue have no more obligation to take you seriously than they do someone wandering the neighborhood and drinking gin out of an inverted toilet plunger while sticking copies of the Watchtower on everyone's windshield.