Fire In The Hole

My covid test strips from last night and this morning

The odd thing about this new bout of Covid (my second) is that the disease appears to be geographically contained. It is located entirely in my left nostril and sinuses, but with a pinpoint savagery not seen on this Earth since in 1570 when Grand Vizier Lala Mustafa Pasha, the cruel Bosnian Turk, laid siege to Famagusta, the last Venetian stronghold in Cyprus.

That was also bad. According to Wiki, the defeated general’s nose and ears were cut off, and then he was "dragged round the walls with sacks of earth and stone on his back; next, tied to a chair, he was hoisted to the yardarm of the Turkish flagship and exposed to the taunts of the sailors. Finally he was taken to the place of execution in the main square, tied naked to a column, and flayed alive. His quartered body was then distributed as a war trophy among the army, and his skin was stuffed with straw and sewn, reinvested with his military insignia, and exhibited riding an ox in a mocking procession along the streets of Famagusta.”

In short, I am feeling beset. Flayed alive. Disrespected. My left head is on fire. You wish me to think and write clearly and helpfully about the disgraceful global matters of the day, but I cannot.

However, I know two people who can, inasmuch as (to my knowledge) their heads are not currently on fire. One of them, a legal expert, tells me quite reasonably that Trump’s vow to try Nicolas Maduro on criminal charges in American courts establishes a disturbing new geopolitical precedent: Thanks to our servile Supreme Court, we can prosecute foreign heads of state but not our own head of state for their official actions.

Second, a friend with years of experience in foreign affairs, texted me this:

“China’s building the green economy of the future and our potato-brained president is invading countries to take oil he somehow thinks belongs to us. I’m not sure we can do anything with any credibility in international affairs anymore. We’re basically Russia.”

And finally, I’d like to reference an Onion Headline from two decades ago, over a “point-counterpoint” feature story:

No Blood for Oil vs. Exactly How Much Oil Are We Talking About?

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Okay, this is the Weekend Gene Pool, where I ask you for your observations on a subject of my choosing. This week: Tell us about a time your left nostril was on fire.

Ok, not that. Tell us about a time you were feeling very, very sorry for yourself, and something dramatic or funny happened as a result.

Good, send it here:

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Today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll:

I hope I’ll be better tomorrow. I have something unpleasant to say about The Washington Post and CBS. I need to work up the requisite energy.

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Please take pity. I am in pain. Pay me.

Ciao. Ow.