Come screaming for tribute, go out on your back

I haven't slept for two days because I am in the kind of pain that could be amended if it were possible to visit my PT, but it's not. If our statewide infection numbers are just now beginning to plateau, I feel like May 18 is a very optimistic reopening date indeed. I was really enjoying not having to yell at my governor on the regular, but I don't understand why he thinks a week and a half of mandatory masks will be enough of a game-changer. We don't yet have comprehensive testing and tracing in place; we may be at the forefront of antibody research, but that doesn't mean we have the data in hand. We need weeks of steadily downward trends, not days. I hope the pro-infection astroturf ("LARPing ammosexuals") is not factoring into Baker's calculations: they are a falsely boosted minority and I am sick of my right to survive counting less than others' right to destroy. Frankly, I'm expecting a bloom from all those bare-faced people screaming in front of the state house. A pandemic is not a morality play; consequences are not confined to bad actors. Death dances away with all in the end, but there are some people I wish would cut to the head of the line. Meanwhile the man in the White House shoots craps even with the lives of his supporters because he can't get reelected if the economy tanks, whereas mass murder of his own citizens is much more negotiable. When I said in February that I was afraid of a Holodomor, it wasn't a request. Vampires of capitalism is such an obvious metaphor and such a tricky one to get right (anti-Semitism is a popular failure mode), but what else am I supposed to think when the rich offer up the poor to a plague to maintain themselves at the top of the food chain? It's an insult to nosferatu, is what it is.