"Your cousin Joe has Covid," said Aunty Mary.
"Which one?"
"The Joe in America."
"You're joking."
"No. He's got it. He's in isolation."
I drove through County Kildare ruminating on the mass pyschosis which has been inflicted on the human race in the form of a permanent virus panic.
Fear is a sublime tool for domination.
Good hearted people are doing everything supposed experts tell them to do.
And they're still getting sick.
Here is the news.
It's a respiratory virus.
We're all going to get it.
But the tyranny of the failed experts continues to grow no matter how often they're proved wrong about everything they have advised.
My cousin had three doses of the vaccines. He's spent the last two years wearing silly facemasks, standing two metres away from other human beings, and washing his hands every five minutes simply because supposed experts had mandated this behaviour. Formerly a paragon of health, after taking the vaccines my cousin immediately developed a heart condition. On doctors advice he's on heart medication for life. And now he's got the virus that all this shenanigans were supposed to prevent him getting. Of course he does.
We're in an awful lot of trouble bold readers if we don't find a way to remind the supposed experts that they work for us and at our pleasure, not vice versa, and not for the Pfizer corporation.
On my travels today I passed the Country Kitchen cafe in Newbridge.
A sign outside announced that it would no longer be open on Mondays and Tuesdays although takeaway coffees would still be served.
Could it be barely a week since I went in there and asked a waitress: "Are you still insisting on those vaccine passports before serving customers?"
"Yes we are."
"Okay," I said backing away.
"It's not up to me," she'd called after me defiantly.
"Oh it's up to all of us," I'd answered. "It's up to all of us to find a way to resist this nonsense."
Really I was wondering what sort of business model allows cafes to turn away customers even in the midst of government induced mass hysteria.
I mean how long can businesses function like this?
And now the Country Kitchen has cut two days from their working week.
In the town of Naas I passed the Cafe Sol near the Dunnes Stores supermarket.
A sign on it apologised without explanation for its sudden closure.
Cafe Sol has been closed for the past week and the same sign has been in the window all that time.
No one knows why exactly.
Today in the rain, I asked a woman outside why it had closed.
"Some people think the staff got Covid," said the woman conspiratorially.
This caused me to smile ruefully.
The staff at Cafe Sol were all vaccinated up to the gills.
Maybe it's time to admit the ultimate heresy.
The untested morally debased vaccines made out of unborn babies murdered by abortion, which people have sold their souls to ingest, don't even work at the minimum levels of preventing infection and preventing the passing on of infection.
Tyranny is always at the end arbitrary.
And still in Naas I see that the Cafe Insomnia on the Main Street has also reduced its opening hours.
One of its nice staff members (they have a lot of not so nice ones) had assured me a few months ago that she would never ask people for a vaccine passport.
That all evaporated as soon as the government passed legislation enabling the imposition of multiple thousand Euro fines per non vaccinated customer to be paid by any cafe that serves such a customer and allows them to consume their purchase on the premises.
So now Cafe Insomnia has cut its working hours.
Here is the news.
Businesses can't function by insulting their most principled, honorable and discerning customers.
I of course mean me.
Driving back to the town of Newbridge I betook myself for a haircut.
The barber and I got talking.
"The vaccines are made out of unborn babies murdered by abortion," I told him.
"I've heard all the arguments," he said.
"Sure where would you hear the arguments?" I challenged. "Not on RTE or in Independent Newspapers or in the Irish Times anyway."
"I heard all your arguments from my brother," responded the barber.
"Is he against the vaccines?" I asked with a modicum of enthusiasm.
"He's against everything," declared the barber.
I thought his brother sounded like one of the goodies.
Graham Garden probably.
