Over a hundred days have passed since the first Covid 19 case struck these shores. 50,000 deaths and a million infection have overwhelmed the American Health System and millions of workers have been released from their jobs without any sign of a return to normalization. We are fucked by a complete lack of leadership by the government. I go to the grocery to discover the depletion of necessary staples i.e. rice, beans, tuna, pasta, bread.
Two days ago I walked through Bushwick. Hordes of homeless, junkies, drunks, and mad people congregated at Myrtle and Broadway. These blocks belonged to them and I retreated back to Clinton Hill, noting the one-story buildings and thought back to the 1977 Blackout. They had once been three-story buildings. Fire had reduced them to ashes.
Most New Yorkers don't remember the chaos.
1977 was in the last century.
A long time ago.
Back this crisis has resurrected the past.
When the food runs out, it's time for burning and looting.
A mob running wild in the street.
I am prepared for this certainty.
A ten-inch Bowie Knife running cold Sheffield Steel from the 1800s.
A 32-oz baseball bat.
A steel pipe lined with nails.
A hammer and a screwdriver.
No gun, but I will wield a more fearful weapons.
A carrot and a cucumber, because nothing scares a potato-chip-eating American more than a real vegetable.
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