JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

In my neighborhood I am well-acquainted with the barangay office’s public address system. Every night at 9:30 or so the barangay captain or their representative reminds everyone of the 10pm curfew for kids 17 and below. If any kids are caught on the street after 10, their parents will be penalized. There are periodic reminders about drinking outside, smoking in public, and illegal parking. I am reminded of those megaphone-toting traffic policemen in the late 80s, who gleefully insulted the pedestrians who were jaywalking or crossing the street while the lights were green. On one hand it’s unseemly to treat adults like children; on the other hand shaming works, for the ordinary people (hampas-lupa) anyway. Privilege, we are constantly reminded, inoculates the powerful against shame.
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If I were in a position of power, and I could get myself and my family tested for Covid-19, even if none of us show symptoms, ahead of the sick, would I?

I would like to say, “Of course not!” and offer to kick the questioner in the nuts, and I think I would not take the test, but I have not been in that situation so I can’t praise myself yet.

However, if I were an asshole who used my power to secure a test, then ordered the exhausted lab technicians at RITM (Please, please be safe) to process my test ahead of the patients who need it urgently, I can guarantee that I would not be idiotic enough to brag that I’ve tested negative. Conscience is one thing and brains are another, but an instinct for self-preservation is basic equipment for humans.
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Two-thirds of my overlords

I’ve read some inspirational takes on the current situation, equating staying at home to flatten the curve with storming the beaches at Normandy. What a lovely thought—I wouldn’t go that far, but I agree that the situation requires a great sacrifice. We are giving up our social lives, our career prospects, relationships that have just begun, our fitness regimens, our education, our long-planned trips, many of our civil liberties, our sports, our movies, our entertainment, our weddings, funerals, and family gatherings, our financial security, our lives as we know them, in order to slow down the spread of coronavirus so it doesn’t overwhelm our hospitals and more people die. Maybe we’re not heroes, but we’re martyrs for a good cause.
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The Catholic Church has wisely suspended mass during “enhanced community quarantine” in order to observe social distancing. Even after we get out of here, I’m guessing that holding hands while singing the Our Father, shaking hands as a sign of peace, or dipping your fingers in the communal font will not be back soon. The Church’s decision can’t have been easy. Not only is it Lent, peak season for Catholicism, but humanity is being stalked by an unseen evil (just as my religion teacher said) and the faithful need solace. After a week in lockdown I suspect even atheists would be happy to attend mass if it would get them out of the house.
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Speaking of Revelations, here’s William Blake.

Yesterday I received reports of people planning to loot a supermarket, or blocking cars on streetcorners to demand money from the passengers. I took them seriously because they triggered my fear of food riots during enhanced ultramega super community quarantine. Fortunately they turned out to be fake news—like the one about the dolphins in Venetian canals, which I also believed because I wanted it to be true. The likelihood of our believing fake news increases if they confirm our fears, hopes, and prejudices. The question is: Who stands to benefit from frightening people who are already frightened?
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My days have begun to blur into each other: I have to check my phone to see what day is. It’s only been 4 days, 13 percent of our communal sentence.

I remembered an essay about the voyage of Magellan and how scurvy (severe vitamin C deficiency; adjective: scorbutic) not only caused sailors’ bodies to disintegrate in a gross manner, but also came with a morbid heightening of the senses. Which could account for those bizarro tales of mermaids and giants in seafaring chronicles. As I was running low on fruit and vegetables (i.e. zero), I decided to venture out of total lockdown for the first time. The nearest supermarket is in Rockwell, a kilometer and a half away.
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