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Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Give Compassion A Chance

I've stopped reading most of my Twitter feeds over the last week. I couldn't handle all the rage and finger-pointing. I'm sure I've done more than my share, but for some reason, I hit my limit. I'll admit I loved Trump's video montage of journos telling everyone the Chinaman's Cough wasn't going to be a big deal, though. That was hilarious.

With the blame game, I'm not singling out the progs. It's everyone. All of the howls of "XXX HAS BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS!" and "HERE'S XXX'S BODY COUNT!" are sickening. Yes, lots of people made mistakes. Some, like De Blasio, were following their racial theology and thought they were fighting white supremacists by endorsing the Chinese New Year celebrations. Some, like the mayor of New Orleans, simply couldn't find the courage to stop Mardi Gras. Some, like Trump, had to overcome their natural optimism and fixation on economic growth.

If you want to point fingers and keep track of body counts, lay into the Chicoms and their lapdogs in the World Health Organization. They're guilty on all counts. You might be able to throw in the American multinationals who bend a knee to the Chicoms as well. But political leaders? Nah.

I won't deny that plenty of them, cough, Nancy Pelosi, cough, have tried to exploit this for their own ends, but if someone came up with evidence that Republican lawmakers were doing the same thing, I wouldn't be surprised. It's what they do and why we need as small a government as possible.

Oh well. As long as I'm suggesting we all take a chill pill, I might as well end this with a flower photo. I left it big, so it might be worth a click. Enjoy.

1 comment:

  1. Yeah, I'd rather look at pretty pictures of your tulips than worry about Twitter, too. We've got crocuses (barely), but won't get our own tulips for some weeks yet.

    As I've mentioned before, I regard Twitter as the online equivalent of a big, annoying party filled with loud, opinionated drunks who aren't anywhere near as funny or thoughtful as they think they are.

    Facebook is similar, except a lot of the drunks are also dancing on the tables with lampshades on their heads.

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