The Editor’s Notes
Thanksgiving is here and gone. Zip zap!
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Letters to the Editor
from A.X. Perez
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The “Morning Guys”
by L. Neil Smith
A BLAST FROM THE PAST Like lots of people, I use a radio to wake me every morning because it’s preferable to being jolted from a sound sleep by the annoying buzz of an alarm clock. At least, I think it is. Having exhausted the alternatives, I finally settled on one of the most powerful stations on the planet, though I live 65 miles north of the vile blot on the Grand Prairie where it’s located. That way, as I make coffee, scramble eggs, and toast English muffins, I can find out what the weather’s like at the Federico Pena Memorial Trash Compactor, out near the Kansas border, hear everything about baseball, football, basketball, hockey, and 49-man squamish—whether I want to or not—and listen to the official version of what’s going on in the world.
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Drowning In Chocolate
by Sarah A. Hoyt
I think I was one of the first if not the first, after the lockdown to post the following tasteless joke:
“We woke up this morning to an introvert’s paradise: no going out, nothing open to go out to, no sports events. We’re all supposed to stay in and socialize via the net.”
Part of the reason I posted something LIKE (I don’t remember the wording exactly) that on Instapundit was that I was furious at the lockdown, which was ordered AFTER the Diamond Princess numbers made clear we had nothing to fear, beyond “bad flu year.” (And the people who came here and bald faced told me that’s because the people in the Diamond Princess had the best possible medical care—…. on a cruise ship, i.e. the kind of environment where people routinely get killed by common viruses, cruise ships being sort of floating, fun virus buckets where isolation is impossible—can go and multiply with themselves.)
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