199 On Golden Pond

October 03, 2020

Two things jumped out at me from yesterday's headlines.

Number one, covid-19 is seasonal. It's October, the start of the traditional flu season in the northern hemisphere, and the virus is starting to pop off.

You know what that means? Everything that has happened up until now in the lockdown, that was the *off season.* 7 million infected, 200k dead (just in the US)? That was the B-squad playing.

Number two, we have successfully moved into the zone of societal breakdown where nobody knows what the truth is. Now, before we go blaming the orange meanie, I would like to point out the WMD "god bless America" days under W43 (20 years later, and we're still debating building 7, and when I say "pulling a Ken Lay" you know what I mean). And then of course there was the mysterious burial at sea of OBL, by O44, and that little protest at our ambassador's home in Benghazi.

Those early seeds of questionable reality have grown into this. Is he really sick? Or is he faking it to: a) stop punching himself in the face at the debates, b) make a quick recovery, look strong, and show the world what a pussy the virus is, or c) emerge in two weeks with a miracle cure, Dr. Dear Leader's Chinese Plague Potion?

The fact that I spent part of the day speculating over these questions with two other adults forces me to look at the reality behind our talk. We don't know what the truth is.

And when you don't know what the truth is, I'm not sure what that's called, but it's not good.

So what are the facts? Who knew what, where and when?

Did anyone know at this party for Amy "Sirena" Barrett on Sept. 26? Five days before dear leader's diagnosis? A bunch of people who were there have turned up sick.

How was Hope "Curell Girl" Hicks feeling when she was sitting maskless with Rude Ol' Fooliani and Jailed Fathner backstage at the debate?

Or how was Spylania feeling when defying the debate rules to sit maskless in the audience?

Dear leader certainly knew about the Hopester's diagnoses when he gathered a few rich donors into a backroom at one of his golf clubs to squeeze a cool five mil out of them.

Did he know he was lying when he said he'd be quarantining in the WH?

"Together!" sounds a bit like the cry of a lonely old man, huh?

But maybe he's creating his own little in-crowd. A "bubble."

He's got the biggest bubble, the best bubble.

No, he's not alone at all.

And don't worry, he put on his "I'm not sick" suit and taped a fifteen second statement before flying off to the hospital to have his temperature taken (a bit hot) and receive an 8-ball of not-yet-FDA-approved (insert-name-brand-associated-with-NJ-pharma-exec-currently-getting-tested-because-they-were-at-a-golf-course-wednesday here).

Meanwhile, Joe Biding My Time has tested negative, (after hearing about dear leader's diagnosis on TV, no polite "hey buddy, I tested positive, you might wanna take a test" calls were made from the WH to anyone) and decided to take the "look at how empathetic I am" approach.

So now, instead of Joe Vs. The Volcano, we get a month's reruns of General Hospital, with a midnight matinee of On Golden Pond.

File under: things you don't want to see in suburban mom's FB feeds

File under: The Phoenix is a classic pub name

25 years ago, this was the spot after work. Also 10 years ago, and a couple years ago. Jammed at lunch, jammed at happy hour, decent crowd until an early close, huge St. Pat's block party.

In other words, cash cow. Gone.

25 years ago this was The Ace Cafe, but for the last 15, it's been Wish. Both were excellent places to get away from the big club crowds in SOMA.

Didn't manage to eat here in their 33 years.

Man, restaurant and bar people, I am sorry you're going through this.

Speaking of restauranteurs, The Pickled Pistol posted a meme about cutting off cell service to protesters recently, and that gave me an opening to talk about one of my tech heroes, Moxie Marlinspike.

Now, the answer to the PP's meme is, "mesh networks." That's when phones talk directly to each other, via Bluetooth or whatever, and form their own network, without cell towers or the internet.

FireChat is one such app. Moxie's pet app, Signal, is another. (It's actually mostly an app for encrypted messaging, but I think now it has a mesh feature.)

I've probably talked about him before, he's a bit of a hero. He's done crazy things with technology, like coming up with the encryption behind WhatsApp, and working C-level jobs at Twitter, and his own company is a non-profit.