The corona has become another sorting-event. No one would have thought, six months ago, that one’s attitude on a face mask would be a delineation between the Slave and the Free. A casual browse of acquaintances’ social media, a casual observation of people outdoors, points to this sharp divide. The Slave is terrified of death. He yearns to obey authority figures. The Free man loathes the face mask, tries to push back thoughts about it being a muzzle-like humiliation ritual, to have to put one on at a store. I keep a scintilla of my humanity by folding a bandana into a triangle and tying it behind my head rather than having one of those face-cupping masks, which resemble the front part of men’s briefs.
The Slave fears death because he is an atheist. The Free man is nonchalant on the concept of death, especially when he’s not entirely convinced that the health-risk is real, because knows that there is a life beyond. So he sees no reason to cling to physical security past the point where personal dignity comes into play.
As the people I used to be fond of race headlong toward leftist singularity and I not just lose respect for them, I in fact find them repellent, I wonder: is all of this the nation-wreckers’ subversion to break up families and friendships, or is the Almighty giving us an opportunity to separate the wheat from the chaff. After all, the quality of my friendship with right-minded people has become even better under globohomo pressure.