This doesn’t even

matter anymore, Nothing seems to matter. What happens when nothing matters? When that is actually a value? I’m writing this now because I have to or I’ll go nuts — which was the reason all along. But I’ve said it all and written it all, all the lies, because lies are a very good thing. No one has listened, no one has responded, except a lady in Saskatchewan (I'll always remember her)  who, like me, is afraid she'll be too old to celebrate the end of lock down. But will there ever be an end? No, they all like it too much. You like it don’t you? That’s what this is all about, I’m convinced — not the money, not the CERB -- though you may like that, not the not going to work, no. It's the lassitude, the longitude, the finely tuned indolence of it all. A world where it is better to do nothing and remain unchallenged, and perhaps (why not?) get fat. Or stoned. Or depressed. Who cares? 'No end in sight' seems like some sort of manipulation doesn't it? But don’t believe any of that, this is just stupidity, that is all this is; but is there a plot behind it? Can’t you see there is no plan? It it was a plan, something concocted and then decided upon by ‘them’ -- well then they did a very bad job of organising it. Doug Ford’s frightened face is an eloquent testament; he is all of us, he is Everyman -- saving his hide by oppressing us. We, in Ontario will be the last place to open, in the world. That must be some sort of distinction — we’ll always have that to be proud of. Hooray for you, Toronto! You were more careful, frightened -- more unwilling to take a calculated risk than anyone else, anywhere! I congratulate you for learning to love your laundry, your cats, for being hopeful, putting smiley-face-emojies on everything, and then running to Facebook to demonize the neighbours. So the movie I chose to watch (Why do I do this? Chose movies? Because I must....) was called Tormented. What a great title! Unfortunately it was the most boring movie I've  ever seen and only tormented me with it's dullness. I stayed to the end, because it’s my job (because we all need a job, don’t we?) But I fell asleep a few times and had to go back and rewatch stuff. I don’t know what to say. Oh yeah, it’s about a man who pushes a sexy blonde off a lighthouse, and then is haunted by her ghost. Anything I say about this movie will make it sound more interesting than it is. I wish it was 'bad funny,' but it had too little imagination to be even that. It made Queen of Outer Space look like Hamlet. Yes, that’s it, that’s what we’re all lacking -- imagination! That’s what this friggin’ pandemic is all about -- it's bloodless, clotless (I was deprived of the blood clot I was promised, what happened? So disappointing. Well maybe the second Astra Zenica vaccine?). It’s all about not being able to come up with anything better than this, so this is what we have to settle for, this non-life, non-love, non-sexy, non-busy but most of all nothing-to-look-forward-to-but-things-you-pretend-to-love-beyond-death, like cheese crackers. Lately I’ve managed to get very excited about getting a coffee at Tim Horton's, and when they have a chocolate chip muffin I just go bananas! Yes so the big moment for me in Tormented was when her disembodied head was speaking to him, in ghostly fashion (all of a sudden it was The Brain that Wouldn’t Die — yes I reviewed that already -- I think more than a year ago), and he gets mad at her (he— who? The hero Richard Carlsen? Who the hell is that?), and so he picks up the head. But when he picks it up it is clearly a wig stand -- something you might see in a wig shop, with a wig on it. It’s not very terrifying. Somewhat like this pandemic-- it does not live up to expectations. What about the countless people who have died, you say? They were all, pretty much past their due date (and/or no one cared about their health before, after or during COVID because they were very old, or very poor). I’m sorry but I can no longer be nice, none of us can be expected to be charitable under the circumstances. I’m not going to feel guilty anymore because you think I’m heartless. I am, okay?  I want to live! to quote that movie with Susan Hayward. Jesus Christ, this mind- numbing, polarizing, politically correct, fake-altruistic, virtue-signalling nightmare has to end some day. It has taught me to hate sweetness, consideration and thoughtfulness, as they will forever be associated in my mind with a censoring COVID-19 prig who wants to whip me with the wet noodle of his self-congratulating pseudo-heroism. I had a high school teacher named Mr. Boone, okay? He directed and produced my first play (bragging now) which went on to win the Simpson’s Drama Festival Award of Merit in 1972. It starred Dan Hill (yes Dan Hill of 'Dan Hill' fame) -- who wrote the title song. Mr. Boone was so kind. If it wasn’t for Mr. Boone I probably would never have become, well -- me. I found out many years later that he was a devout Christian. But you know something? He never mentioned it once. He didn’t care if I knew he was a Christian or not. He was simply a very good person, and he probably knew I was a closet case from hell, I mean who wouldn’t have? (only my girlfriends I guess). But the best teacher of all was Mr. Draggit. (Yes that was his actual frigg’n name.) He was so handsome and young. One day he closed the door to our 5th grade class and said “I want to talk to you about something very important. So everyone listen very carefully." Then he took off his coat and tie, and rolled up his sleeves. I can’t remember any details about his arms, but they must have been magnificent, possibly hairy, certainly muscled; they were the naked arms of a man (my teacher!). Then he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit up, and smoked, in front of us, in the classroom. (This would have been in 1963.) Then he said.” Don’t you ever do this. Don’t you dare ever do what I’m doing now. Cigarettes are evil. Don’t ever smoke.” I can’t remember what he did with the damn cigarette, I’m assuming he didn’t finish it. I never forgot that, partially because it almost gave me my first orgasm (though I was unaware of orgasms at that time). The lesson I learned from Mr. Draggit was even more important than the one I learned from Mr. Boone. If a thing is very, very bad for you -- and you are not supposed to do it, then go right out and do it. Now.