Why must it still be so cold here on April 17? Didn’t Trump promise us it would be warmer in April and that the pandemic would miraculously disappear? And there legitimately are some outdoor tasks that I could attend to, but the continuing cold, boredom, and anxiety mean that I’d rather just climb back under the covers.
I’m a bit late seeing this, but apparently Brazil bigshot Bolsinaro’s son is blaming Chinese communists for the pandemic. Meanwhile, not so far away, Nicaragua’s onetime radical Daniel Ortega says the plague is an expression of God’s wrath against U.S. militarism and “hegemony.” (Might be time for him to look again at Gramsci’s The Prison Notebooks to see about the meaning of that word.) Trump blames the World Health Organization. And in Michigan’s capital, racist Proud Boys and other Trumpish yahoos gridlocked street traffic, blaming the Democratic governor for a fictitious crisis.
The Guardian’s recipe for baked orzo puttanesca calls for orzo, which we have, plus (in part) anchovies, capers, preserved lemons, kalamata olives, and basil leaves. Mate! It is still practically winter here and we’re not allowed to run over to Citarella to get preserved lemons and kalamata olives! So tonight, more lentil soup and salad. Tomorrow, who can say? Maybe an all-vegetable plate?
Tonight’s entertainment: back to Babylon Berlin, since Netflix’ nordic offerings seem pretty flawed. Also an episode of the Wales-based policier Hinterland.
Magical thinking is upon us. Is the current epidemic a sign from above, many are asking? Just look! There’s more than one indication that the final days have arrived: a devastating tornado in Arkansas, vast swarms of locusts in Africa, out-of-control wildfires—and floods—in Australia, an earthquake in Utah. Passover arrives next week, with its reminder of the ten plagues that God sent to beset sinful ancient Egypt. (I for one would welcome a few frogs.) The Pew Research Center says some 40% of U.S. voters believe Jesus is likely to return, as was foretold in the New Testament, by the year 2050. Why not now, I ask, before the election?
“God is Brazilian,” asserts the whacko Bolsonaro, who says the deity, not a quarantine, will protect his country. Anyone who’s afflicted should simply guzzle a certain anti-malaria nostrum, it seems. Bolsonaro has launched an official campaign, #BrazilCannotStop, encouraging people to carry on with life as usual. In contrast, the criminal gang that controls the frightening City of God favela says it will enforce a strict curfew and punish violators. It’s up to such “lawless” elements and certain responsible state governors to bring order out of the madness.
Meanwhile, the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club has canceled the Wimbledon tennis tournament. Heretofore, the midsummer classic was canceled only for the two world wars.
The Democratic National Convention, scheduled for July, has been pushed on to mid-August. But a federal judge has refused to postpone Wisconsin’s presidential primary scheduled for April 7.
And Trump will shortly instruct all Americans that they must wear cloth masks when in public. I’ve got mine on right now.
Dinner: more lentil soup and lettuce salad.
Entertainment: Jeopardy, The Crown, Berlin Babylon, and Detectorists.