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Stay home
Considering that in LA there is a big variety of stores (we have eighteen) that will deliver a huge range of groceries in under two hours to your home for a very minimal fee I am completely mystified as to why nearly everyone I know is still going shopping themselves. Grocery stores are probably the highest risk place you can go for Covid infection this side of a hospital. There is no need whatsoever to go to one. There is no need to go to a pharmacy where people with hay fever and colds go to buy over the counter medications and cough and sneeze. You don’t need to get stuck in a line for take out. You have options. Fyl and I haven’t been in a store or a restaurant or a business of any kind almost since the shutdown. Yet our fridge, freezer, cupboards, bar and medicine cabinet are stuffed with everything you put in fridges, freezers, cupboards, bars and medicine cabinets. We have restaurant leftovers up the wazoo. We have all the stuff that other people are going to grocery stores, pharmacies, liquor barns, and restaurants for. And those people are several hundred times more likely to get infected than are we up here atop our hill in isolation.
Because every single time an even asymptotic infected person exhales, even just a simple silent breath, viruses tumble out and float about in the air for several seconds. If you breathe in air where they breathed out air just seconds before you have a very strong chance of inhaling a Covid virus, even just a single tiny one, that they just shed. Because the six foot radius we’re supposed to be keeping is a dynamic radius, so that everywhere an infected person just moved from leaves a danger zone. It’s not the infected person himself that is dangerous as much as it is the air in which he just exhaled. That is where the virus exists in the largest numbers, in the exhaled air we leave around us, so there will be a trail of air following the infected person that will be full of living viruses for at least several seconds.
Next time you’re in your favorite grocery store, whether it’s a big giant chain store or a smaller, hipper one, look at all the people and imagine the infected air an infected fellow shopper would leave in their wake. Who knows how many Covid viruses are expelled with that person’s every exhalation. And who know who among your fellow shoppers is asymptomatically infected and shedding viruses like there’s no tomorrow, which there might not be for the poor high risk bastard who breathes in one. Because you only need to inhale one of those exhaled viruses. If it fixes itself to a cell in your lungs with its spikey little protuberances, it will puncture the cell wall and begin feeding off your cell’s innards like some ultra microscopic lamprey to get the nutrients it needs to generate copies of itself. It reproduces like the viruses that inhabit an infected computer. The principal is virtually identical and if you’re not protected by the right antibodies, it will do to your internal organs what a computer virus does to your hard drive. All that from the one single virus you breathed in at MegaMart or Hipster Haven, even though you were six feet away from everyone else in the store.
Of course this doesn’t only apply to shoppers at your favorite grocery store. It could be the completely healthy looking couple in front of you on the sidewalk. It could be one of the people in line in front of you at the Thai take-out. It could be one of your very best friends in front of you, smiling.
Stay home.
Mockingbirds
Listening to these mockingbirds improv reminds me of a factoid I read today in Daniel Tammet’s Embracing the Wide Sky that in order for male songbirds to sing some of the incredibly complex songs which change constantly, up to one per cent of the neurons in their song center are replaced by new neurons every single day, which adds up pretty quickly. That’s what those mockingbird brains are doing, rebuilding themselves continuously. Not adding brain cells to what is there already, but replacing them. It’s as if in order to speak we had to replace 100% of the neurons in our language center every 100 days. That is, all the grammar we’ve hardwired into our brain is replaced by entirely new brain cells with all new intricately laced connections between them four times a year. It’s not quite that simple (some of the neurons in the mockingbird’s song center will be replaced more often than others and others are more permanent), but still, our grammar and vocabulary would completely and fundamentally change over a period of a hundred days. Not all at once, but a little everyday so that you’d be speaking a completely different language in April from what you were speaking on January 1. I’m writing this in English now and a hundred days from now I’d be writing this in Armenian, and next year in Sioux. Plus I’d wake you up at five in the morning screaming outside your window.
A veritable ocean of inflections
Most verbs in standard English have six possible forms, e.g. take, takes, took, take, taking, taken. But in Archi, a language spoken in a few small villages tucked away in a valley deep in the Caucasus Mountains, a verb can have 1,502,839 possible forms. A grammar nazi would go out of his anal little mind.
Plague diary, March 24
It’s all so eerie. Emails have just about stopped. Facebook is a trickle. Even Twitter has slowed dramatically. Come nightfall you don’t see people on the street, the neighbors have almost disappeared, traffic is almost not there, and now almost everyone on social media has vanished. This is the weirdest fucking time I can ever remember. Where are we all?
It’s 3 am now and I keep thinking I have stuff to do today but I don’t. Places to go but there aren’t. People to meet but none of them either. I go out on our sundeck in the middle of the city and it’s silence.
Plague diary, March 23
Coronavirus breaking news overload. It’s everywhere all the time. Weeks of it. There’s no escape. The endless tension begins to take a physical toll. You feel lousy, jumpy, taut with nerves. You stop, turn it off, look for diversions, then sit at home staring in the dark.
Self isolation means literally self isolating.
Self isolation means literally self isolating. It does not mean going for walks or hanging out with friends, it does not mean your friends are any less infectious than perfect strangers, nor does it mean that you yourself are not an asymptomatic carrier of the coronavirus infecting everybody you come in contact with. The virus itself is not as dangerous as the people who spread the virus. We enable the virus. Without us exhaling it could not spread. Without us inhaling it could not spread. Every single breathing person you see including the person staring back at you in the mirror is potentially infected with the coronavirus, and the numbers of those of us who are infected is increasing at an exponential rate every day. The vast majority of people are infected by those in their family, and by their friends. Though you can be infected by a stranger you are far likelier to be infected by those you know very well.
Remember, the pandemic is not considered controlled until there are absolutely no new cases for fourteen days in a row. Because one infection very quickly becomes hundreds of new infections. That is how this becomes out of control so fast. That is why this is a pandemic. That is why everyone keeps telling you to please stay home.
.
Plague diary, March 14
Today is the Feast of Saint Lidwid, patroness saint of the chronically ill and ice skaters. It occurs to me that if Ronald Colman got stoned he’d be James Mason. Try it yourself. Do Ronald Colman saying Bonita, smoke a joint, then do Ronald Colman saying Bonita again. Voila—James Mason. Sadly, if you actually can do Ronald Colman saying Bonita, you’re a cinch to be a coronavirus statistic. Hence, Saint Lidwid.
