The madness will end
United States life in late 2020 is beyond parody. Brazil level madness is what I see all around me. A balmy heat wave characteristic of fickle lower-midwest autumn has warmed up early november into the 70s. The sun is setting, but I'm still treated to a warm breeze as I sit here typing. To my right, a young couple, probably age 20 or 19, sit happily chatting with cloth masks wrapped tightly around their mouth and nose. This is, of course, 'required' by university policy, even when outdoors. Condition of my employment, I'm told. I wonder if these kids are supposed to sleep with those things on. The masks have driven a cold wall between us. And it's not just my residual omega tendencies to avoid social contact. There is a fundamental transformation occurring. However many months or years this goes on, the minds of those subjecting themselves to Operation Muzzle are being expertly operated on. Whatever emerges when the masks finally come off will be something new, some