Get Your Fucking Vaccination, You Selfish Assholes
Obviously that headline changed everyone’s mind who was on the edge of their decision to get vaccinated or not.
You’re welcome, humanity.
I’m here to help.
On a personal note, the second Moderna shot hit like a weird mushroom trip, without any of the fun parts. For those of you not familiar with psychedelics, imagine a bad hangover, and you’re nearly there. Though a bad hangover is nothing like a mild mushroom trip, and yet both of these examples work. Basically, the human body is a weird playground of fucked up feels, and the COVID shot will have a blast with it.
What I’m truly saying is, here I am, post second shot, ready to lock lips with all consenting fully vaccinated adults. Gimme your germs; my immune system is READY.
For those of you who are all like, I’m waiting to see what happens, please know I used to be you. I’ve literally never gotten a flu shot. I was super selective about the vaccinations my kids got when they were little blobs of cuteness. There was a short time in my life when I humored the idea that vaccinations could be linked to autism (oh yea, I was one of THOSE people. We’re all idiots in our early 20s, okay?). In short, by the popular definition, I was an anti-vaxxer–still, I will forever hate that term.
So here’s the deal, I do not and will never, fully trust the medical system in the United States. It’s a trash industry built on keeping people sick to make money. There’s no salvation there.
However, this is not just a problem in the United States. This is a worldwide pandemic, and Jesus Fucking Christ it is selfish as shit to not take the vaccination when you can. You can argue that it’s not selfish, but you’ll sound like one of those jerks that plays devil’s advocate on the racism debate because you’re ridiculously self-entitled.
“I don’t wanna get sick from the shot.” You can literally schedule your one, maybe two, recovery days. Imagine getting actual COVID and having to take a week or more off from work at the most inconvenient time. You could end up with a damaged heart or lungs – or even worse, straight up die.
“It changes your immune system.” It’s supposed to. It’s helping your body build up immunity.
“I don’t trust the CDC.” SAME. It’s a good thing this isn’t about the United States. India is getting decimated by this virus, and us self-righteous Americans are sitting on our high horses going, well, maybe I’ll get it, who knows. (Obviously, to all those who literally can’t get it because of their compromised immune system, this is not about you).
Embrace that all of your little questions are about you and only you, and not about joining the rest of us who are banning together to try and beat this stupid pandemic into submission. Either stop interacting with the human race, unless you’re wearing a mask every time you do, or get your shit together and stop risking other people’s safety for your own selfish reasons.
I love you, you big dumbasses.
Rant fin.
Vermont, You Kooky Little State.
I’m back in my house, in the upstairs unit, living like a college student in their first apartment. The walls are bare, and the bedroom has a mattress on the floor with no other furniture, because I’m classy like that. It’s interesting how much different this space feels being upstairs. It’s like a whole other world. Before, I felt like I was a part of the town; now it’s like I’m observing it from afar.
I find it amusing that I was here for the first and last snows of the season, watching the snowfall for the first time in October, and for the last time the day after I crossed the imaginary state line in April.
Timing. It’s all about timing.
Speaking of time, it’s been two years since I drove away from this same parking lot, on Solo.
It’s good to have them back; they were safely tucked away in my friend’s barn back in August. It’s my hope to get in a full riding season this time around, and I’ve been taking Solo out for a hundred miles a day, nearly every sunny day.
It’s also good to catch up with my son, and drive around Vermont, to enjoy this land and all its beauty.
It took less than a week to see a tractor drive down the road and slow the flow of traffic, or to brake for a pet duck, hold a gosling, hang out with a turkey, schedule a game night, a trivia night…
Or see a skull, chillin’
It was freeing to run and hug a close friend, as we shout across the outdoor seating, “Are you safe to hug?” and have a drink… and of course our number is the answer to everything.
To see all the art–I wish I could have gotten a picture of the truck carting the large metal grasshopper that Solo and I followed on a random joyride.
Vermont, I seriously love you.
It is still a strange state, though. Like, it’s got twice as many cows as people, and the same for snowmobile trails to paved roads. It’s painfully lacking diversity, and while I used to defend that it wasn’t racist, it’s now clear Vermont is harboring many of the same issues as the rest of the country.
It also feels smaller than before, even more so than when I was living in the woods in isolation last summer. The roads that I’m so very familiar with are still rich and beautiful, and the people are what keep me coming back, but without a doubt, Vermont is a pocket of isolation from reality.
Still, one of my offspring is here. I plan on buying land when the market crashes again in a few years.
It’s home; it always will be.
On The Coming Apocalypse
In regards to selling the house, I haven’t needed it for the last two years, so I might as well make some money during this whole housing boom. It’s like everyone decided at once to move to the hidden parts of the world because of a pandemic, as if that’ll save them when things get really bad.
Spoiler: it won’t. The people who were already here will eat you first.
Is the world ending? Fuck if I know, and I honestly don’t care. Worrying about a future that hasn’t gotten here means I’m missing out on what’s right in front of me. Not to mention, wasting time preparing for something that may never transpire. This doesn’t mean to be wasteful, or live without intention–no, quiet the opposite.
A decade or so back, a friend of mine asked, if the world is gonna go to shit, why should I keep paying my college debt?
So here’s the deal, if you can afford it, keep living life as you normally would. If things fall completely apart so badly that your college debt is no longer a factor, then the amount of money you have in your bank account won’t matter either. Therefore, whether you paid your college debt or not is a mute point.
On the flip side, (and the more likely outcome) if things continue on in a “normal” way, with humanity bumping into more weird pandemics, natural disasters, and maybe, just maybe, an alien encounter/intervention (oh, one can dream) along its jagged little path–not to mention another pending financial collapse or two–it’s probably a good thing to keep paying and/or going through the system. The alternative is to completely peace out and go live in the woods off grid. If you do, save me a spot. I’m sure I’m only a few years away from such an adventure.
Essentially, live your life, as best you can, with some basic consciousness about how your actions are impacting the earth and the people in your life. If/when things do fall apart, have a good head about you and accept that nothing is ever permanent–and therein lies life’s true beauty.
My Year In Motion 