In times of panic, anything can happen.

Recent days have witnessed the emergence of a new rift in our pandemic debate. Strikingly, this time the dispute is not just partisan, but also splitting the Democratic Party. While Democratic governors appear to see where political winds are blowing, some blue cities are moving in the opposite direction.

And many states that are dropping adult mask mandates are retaining them for kids, resulting in the absurd prospect of indefinite masking for a less vulnerable population for whom masks have more significant downsides.

And the beat goes on . . .

Steve Cunneen opened Cunneen’s Bar in 1972 and was a near-daily presence at the Devon Avenue bar. He died Feb. 2 at 86 years old.

Cunneen infused the humble corner bar with his personality. His immense collection of jazz records was moved to Cunneen’s and played frequently. A woodworker and craftsman, Cunneen built the bar’s tables, the light over its pool table and the stained glass above the front entrance.

Cunneen even made a phone booth and placed it toward the rear of the bar. After pay phones went out of vogue, Cunneen would banish cellphone talkers to the phone booth, Colin-Cunneen said.

Which says a lot about the place, where our Maggie had a birthday party a few years back. (BTW, happy birthday, Mag, just three days ago.)

Have a look at this candidate for the last word on mask-o-mania, and never mind the hostility to upper case:

of all the utterly discredited non-pharmaceutical interventions around covid, perhaps none stands as pervasive in its application and as universal in its failure as masks.

it was a flat out cargo cult belief set from the beginning and the inefficacy of this purported intervention was known and knowable beforehand and was confirmed, again and again, by all the emerging data.

the studies undertaken to “prove” efficacy were shams, lacked control groups, used cherry picked data, fraud, and methodologies so hilariously bad as to call into question the basic competence and honesty of those pushing them. the CDC has been a disgrace.

and yet the intensity of the push for this meaningless mitigation ratcheted ever upward. a certain class of person loved this, demanded this, needed this. no data could dissuade their desire.

even those who gathered the data that proved so helpful in proving this such as emily oster backed away from their own output because it so clearly contradicted the narrative of their tribe. she, an ivy league economics professor, disavowed her own discovery and flipped to team emotion. (another dark day for the gato alma mater)

it was sad to see, but altogether predictable.

masks are signs of subjugation. they dehumanize. they alienate. and this is WHY they are so attractive to so many.

this is why forcing them on kids to dominate them and force them into compliance with state over self or even parents is such a high priority goal for those that have collectivist plans for their futures. it establishes precisely who is in charge.

masks are not about public health.

masks are about hierarchy.

they not only represent a high visibility in-group/out-group tribal marker, but they have wonderous potential as a form of separating the powerful from the powerless, the nobles from the commoners, the dictators from the dictated to.

it has become the opiate of the classes. . . .

more more more . . .

From the marvelous Substack columns of bad cattitude.

Maiden voyage, 12/1/21:

Man with coffee, seated, looking around . . . 3:30 in the p.m. on Colectivo patio, a few yards from Clark Street reading Richard Hughes’ Fox in the Attic. Very careful writer, says intro, author who takes time to do it right. It shows.

Lo, on Clark and the side street Rascher, where the man sits, mad monks walk by. Mad monks — he’s never met one, it’s a Gothic trope — are his fellow citizens in masks, covered nose to gullet, one after another, heads down, avoiding so much as a glance at this man in snappy red sweater under stylish green, chilly-weather vest.

They walk quickly as if he were emitting darts of sickness. They remind the man that these are the days of the virus, the evil spirit which hovers over all.

To dentist today . . . He had my “partial” ready to try. . . .

more more more . . .