Coronavirus Wishes and Genocidal Dreams
Wouldn’t that be something? If COVID-19 were a divine plague like the ten popularized by Cecil B. DeMille, we’d applaud the lord’s work. Take them! Take them, Lord! Snuff them out like you did with the Flood and those pesky Egyptian slave owners! Take the Mayor Goodmans and the President Trumps and the Governor Kemps and that woman hanging out of her car window like a white trash scrub. But, above all, dear Lord Almighty, take the Instagram influencers.
When Ali, Casey, and I were in college down in central Illinois, we lived in this great place just a block off campus. It was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the town smack dab in the middle of Greek Row, snuggled between the Beta and SAE houses—a modest, three-bedroom house with a front porch and back patio, and yard that made it ideal for barbecues and other themed or not themed parties.