Part 21 of 30
The virus is here, of course. I think about it, a collection of germs with a nucleus, whatever, and how famous it is, even infamous. And yet in its little world it’s oblivious to its fame and the destruction we see from our point of view. In a weird way, however bad it seems to us, it’s going through its life or liveliness merely as it's compelled by its nature.
And so it goes. I sit here at this old typewriter, thinking over a few thoughts. Run to the kitchen for another pot of coffee, then I’m right back, click clack clack bing, another line of viral wisdom to calm the masses, trying with all my might to put what's going on into some context and of course struggling to make sense of what seems senseless at first blush. But it’s only senseless if our own lives of running to the store, carrying things home, fixing dinner, and going to bed at night are senseless.
We really ought to have the upper hand against the virus and probably do, if nature’s what we think it is. That is, benign and passive even if perceived to be against us. One rule has to be, yes, it’s driven toward ends, but they’re not likely conscious ends, a kind of thought like, “I need to infect 12 more people before nightfall.” That'd be terrible, the goal-driven life for viruses! With merit medals and all the rest.
We’d expect that, though, if there were aliens from outer space terrorizing us. And I’m not saying there’s not, even though I don’t believe there is. Wouldn’t that be a great talent if we could see everything revealed exactly as it is? Meaning I'd immediately discern there’s a slime monster virus on my house, not small or subtle but about a mile thick and also encompassing the Big City. If everyone could see it, we'd have an all-points bulletin, “Exercise all caution, This thing multiplies and expands based on the attention we show it.” The sergeant explains the facts of life to me and I ask the natural question, “Should we be discussing it?”
Good news, I just checked the roof and everything seems normal. None of the surroundings, nearby houses, lawns, appear to be under any unusual pressure. The grass isn’t moving in strange reactive ways. There’s no unnatural shadows. The wind is blowing and moving things slightly but nothing out of the ordinary, normal as our usual boring day.
However, I do seem to be coughing more than normal. And when I came back from the bathroom, the typewriter suddenly seemed to fall from the air and hit the table. Sort of a freakish thing to happen, but no doubt explainable. And it’s suddenly not quite as sunny out. In fact I can’t even see the light of day... And there’s big psychedelic corpuscles up and down the skin of something! It’s oozing, grasping, pressing in! The light fixtures are filling up with what looks like fruit juice! Send help, I think I’ve stumbled on something!