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Pandemic Politics Vaccines

Warped: Pandemic Politics

I sat down to write this piece more than two months ago, before a wave of work and family pressures left it stranded amidst the weeds of countless other unfinished efforts.

I didn’t get beyond the opening sentence: “Hats off to Justin Trudeau.”

Five measly words; but words that never in a jillion years did I imagine I would ever tap into my keyboard.

I haven’t been the Prime Minister’s biggest fan, to put it mildly; that a man with no discernible credentials ended up at the helm of our country remains an enduring source of bafflement (unless wavy-haired good looks and a famous last name stack up to “credentials”).

But on the evening of December 14th I felt the man deserved his due. The day had brought great hope and abundant promise: the first Canadians had been immunized against Covid-19, beginning with 89-year-old Gisele Levesque, a resident at the Saint-Antoine long-term care home in Quebec City.

It was “V-Day”, declared retired general Rick Hillier, appointed by Trudeau as immunization task force leader. It was, he said, as though somebody had lit a match “to help us see our way out of the abyss and the darkness.”

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Pandemic Politics

Oh, To Be A Politician

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

For some, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

I know whereof I speak.

I was barely a teenager before I started casting about in earnest for a career, one that would not only keep me interested but would supply me with ample dough to travel, play, and support a family. (I was arrogant enough, even then, to believe that someone would marry me and bear my children.)

I settled on veterinary medicine as conduit to fulfillment; by the age of twenty-four I was a practicing animal doctor.

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Pandemic Politics

Unmasked And Drowning In Nonsense

“Thou shalt not Covid thy neighbour’s life. Wear a mask.”

Church billboard outside Royal Columbia Hospital, New Westminster, British Columbia

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person,” Oscar Wilde once noted.  “Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

The famous playwright died 120 years ago, destitute and alone, three short years after being released from prison.  His sexual orientation had earned him a two-year stint in the slammer.

If Mr. Wilde were alive today, he’d find the world a more enlightened place, undoubtedly. 

He might also expect to find the world awash in truthfulness, what with all the Covid-generated mask-wearing.  But he’d be disappointed: there’s no pandemic of honesty.  Instead we’re submerged in a toxic soup of misinformation and falsehoods. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m more afraid of drowning in nonsense than I am of dying from Covid-19.