Diary of a Plague Year

The future arrives without comment, and keeps arriving, like gales in a storm; the human struggles to maintain its ballast. I think, almost a year after Covid became a thing, people are beginning to understand that the changes we have made and accepted are permanent; there is no going back. The return to the pre-Covid era is simply a fantasy; Covid was actually the culmination, the consequence, of the way we were living: it was the sum of our fears — the manifestation of collective insecurity and anxiety. There is no outside of Covid, there is no silver bullet — no vaccine, no mandate — that will end the state of crisis, which is an aggregation of the way we feel. Crisis is an epiphenomenon — an emergence — an emanation floating over the seemingly random patterns of digital chatter. Covid-19, the virus may fade, but The Virus will last for a generation: it is the spectral presence which rules our consciousness — the father-ghost to our Hamlet.

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