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Day 536

Notes from the bunker

I’m in chronic funk territory again. Not the the good, George Clinton kind of funk, but the bad, “how can this many people be this reliably disappointing” kind of funk. The Delta variant has been in full bloom for weeks and ICU beds in some areas are reaching capacity again, making June’s steady drumbeat of reopening feel like a naive daydream. Masking indoors in public is back in vogue, not that it was gone for long, and kids returning to school are doing so against a backdrop of parents, educators, and government arguing over who should or should not be inconvenienced in the name of public health. School outbreaks are correlated with hands-off policies and more are undoubtedly imminent. The Pfizer vaccine, authorized for emergency use since late last year, recently got FDA approval. Children under 12 are still ineligible for vaccination, there are adults who can’t be vaccinated for legitimate medical reasons, and there are marginalized communities who have an earned distrust of the medical establishment, even if it’s misguided in this case. Every other unvaccinated person, whom I take to be the majority of holdouts, is part of the problem and can fuck right off to hell.

In some ways—not enough—life has returned to some modicum of normalcy. Offices are partially reopened and we can see our (vaccinated) friends and family in their homes again, which is definitely not nothing, but inertia has kept me from indulging as often as I might. Live music is back. Most venues require masks and many require proof of vaccination. This is as it should be. At some point we decided you’re not allowed to smoke indoors in public because your disregard for your own health shouldn’t be allowed to endanger others, and I don’t see how this situation is any different. Anyway, these sensible restrictions may not be enough, and plenty of artists are canceling their fall tours. I have tickets to a handful of shows in the next couple of months, tentatively purchased during June’s wave of optimism. One has been canceled so far, and even if the others go on as planned, I don’t know if I’ll feel comfortable attending. The COVID era marches on, wearily chanting its mantra: “I don’t know the right thing to do, so I guess I’ll just stay home.” 660,000 Americans are dead, with another 100,000 expected to join them by year’s end.

I need to get better at disengaging. Self care and all that. Working in a newsroom dedicated to bad news doesn’t help, and when Texas puffs out its chest about making it hard to vote and impossible to get an abortion, it’s hard to look away. As I write this, a few blocks away, the Schuylkill River is at its highest level in recorded history after a night of battering from the remnants of Hurricane Ida, which literally tore the roof off Louisiana. It’s almost enough to distract from the predictably disastrous end to our Afghanistan quagmire.

I’m keeping busy. Working on my zine and a couple of fun pro bono design projects, and making plans for this year’s Robtober. But it’s not enough. Or it’s too much. Or something.

All posts in this series

Day 23

Notes from the bunker

I went for a bike ride early Sunday morning. It ended my longest indoor streak yet: five full days. I suppose my area of Brooklyn bustles more than most, but after reading about how everyone staying inside had given major cities the appearance of ghost towns, I expected a lot less activity. And more masks. The CDC’s guidance recently shifted to a recommendation that everyone cover their nose and mouth when going out. It makes… See more →

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Day 78

Notes from the bunker

I live in Philadelphia now. While I was still in Brooklyn, I aspired to get outside every day, but my stretches indoors got longer and longer. My last one was 11 days. I’m getting out much more regularly now, and it feels good, but it’s invariably an exercise in frustration. The latest CDC guidance says that surface transmission, while possible, is much less likely than transmission via respiratory droplets. Nevertheless, at least half of the… See more →

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Day 167

Notes from the bunker

I’m at a low boil pretty much all the time now. I think the past three weeks or so have been a little better, but I’ll still sometimes catch myself snapping at Leah over something impossibly trivial, or throwing my hands up in disgust and falling into a prolonged funk at the slightest annoyance. This week’s Republican National Convention, a substance-averse cult gathering which kept Hatch Act experts busier than ever, didn’t help. With the… See more →

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The Imogen Poots Index

Twenty-eight weeks later, how close is this pandemic to ‘28 Weeks Later’?

COVID-19 has made much of the U.S. a remote workforce for 28 weeks now, prompting the obvious question, “How does this pandemic stack up against the one depicted in the 2007 horror film 28 Weeks Later?” In the film, a solid sequel to Danny Boyle’s classic 28 Days Later, the world is besieged by the Rage Virus, which launches everyone it infects into a mindless, murderous frenzy. (Some filmgoers might refer to the infected as … See more →

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Day 232

Notes from the bunker

Tomorrow is Election Day. The polls say the path to victory for the incumbent president is a very steep one. But after 2016, no one trusts the polls, no matter how many articles explain how pollsters have adjusted their methods since then. (For the record, 2016’s predicted margins didn’t give me anywhere near the level of confidence in a Democratic win that everyone else seemed to have.) Anyway, anything other than a landslide Election Day… See more →

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Day 248

Notes from the bunker

We passed a quarter million American COVID-19 deaths today. The virus is surging, hospitals are reaching capacity, the mortality rate is ticking back up, and the lockdowns are starting again. In a few days, an order goes into effect here in Philadelphia banning all public and private indoor gatherings until at least the end of the year. Gyms and museums are closing, indoor dining at restaurants and bars is halting. Outdoor gatherings are to have… See more →

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Day 304

Notes from the bunker

Nearly 4,000 Americans died of COVID-19 on January 6th, a new record that was all but completely ignored as our horrified gaze was averted by an even larger number of Americans laying siege to their own United States Capitol, egged on by none other than the president himself. In the week since, as the president has been banned from social media and grudgingly condemned the riot while refusing to accept responsibility for it, as cabinet… See more →

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Day 365

Notes from the bunker

On March 10, 2020, I attended what would be my last indoor public gathering in a long time, a US Air Guitar competition at Saint Vitus Bar in Brooklyn. I was ambivalent about going. We were still holding out hope that the coronavirus situation would be contained, but that hope was feeling more and more naive. “I love you,” I told my friends, “but I’m not touching you.” That seemed responsible. Masks weren’t a thing… See more →

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Day 472

Notes from the bunker

Leah and I have now been fully vaccinated for six weeks. During that time, restrictions around the country have loosened steadily, and even in indoor public spaces, masks are disappearing, as are plexiglass barriers and floor decals encouraging social distancing. We’ve had gatherings of family and friends in our home and attended them in others’ homes. We’ve hugged people. We’ve ridden on buses and trains. I spent a day in New York, my first since… See more →

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Day 536

Notes from the bunker

I’m in chronic funk territory again. Not the the good, George Clinton kind of funk, but the bad, “how can this many people be this reliably disappointing” kind of funk. The Delta variant has been in full bloom for weeks and ICU beds in some areas are reaching capacity again, making June’s steady drumbeat of reopening feel like a naive daydream. Masking indoors in public is back in vogue, not that it was gone for… See more →

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Day 779

Notes from the bunker

A commonly expressed example of American excess is the fact that we constitute just 5 percent of the world’s population but consume a quarter of its resources. We haven’t quite reached that level with our share of the world’s Covid deaths, but our current 15.8 percent stake is still a plenty potent argument for American exceptionalism, though obviously not the sort of argument the exceptionalists prefer to make. Our Covid death toll makes well over… See more →

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Day 1,001

Notes from the bunker

A few hours after my last post in this series back in May, L tested positive, as have many other friends and family members in the months since. As someone who still has yet to contract Covid, I may now be in the minority among the people I know. Nevertheless, between staying on top of my vaccine regimen and absorbing the zeitgeist, my day-to-day caution is almost back to pre-pandemic levels. I usually carry a… See more →

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Day 1,376

Notes from the bunker

I’ve stared so intently at so many rapid antigen tests over the last few years, trying to discern if an impossibly faint second line was present, that I was entirely unprepared for how crystal clear my first positive result would be.

Covid-19 finally came for me on December 2, 2023, with aches, severe sinus congestion, and an obnoxious cough fully materializing three days later. Since all this arrived on the heels of a negative test… See more →

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