Xoterica 30: The Chase

Artemis Sere Xoterica 30 The Chase

“Do not run away; let go. Do not seek, for it will come when least expected.” (Lee)

The armed man unloaded three shots at cops, and then ran. Cops returned fire and missed. Thankfully, none of the shots made their targets. The armed man disappeared into the night, stolen Nissan Rogue his chariot.

Just another night down my street. Last year, my bike was stolen off the back of my SUV. A few months ago, my SUV was egged. This year, the violence is more palpable, present, and pervasive.

Riots. Protests. Anger. Rage. In the Twin Cities where I live, there are charred husks of disruption, voices of pain captured in charcoal and spray paint.

The fires of change roar mightily and severely ahead of the first debate in our election cycle, pitting the King against our best current option for counterbalance. While I'm not a huge fan of Biden, the Trump virus must be exorcised at all costs. American democracy and integrity depends on it. I consider myself a Globalist first and American second, so while the fight isn't completely mine, I want to see America go in a different direction.

An end to MAGA, and a start toward MEGA - Make EARTH Great Again. America's place in it. Our relationship to it. And our relationship with each other.

Sadly, I know many in my audience will read this and strike a dissonant position. The fabric of friendship and society at large have both been greatly strained by covid, by cycles of partisan propaganda, by the fear of a society facing serious disturbance and turbulence.

The people are deeply afraid. Not just to vote, but of the recognition that our opinions are suddenly meaningless, as if the race we were all running together has abruptly stopped and we realized the course was rigged for all of us all along. Sure, the white power structure mostly created the game and took full advantage of self-sustaining riches and wealth that comes from self-appointed affluence and feudalism. We have bowed to Kings and Queens for generations, allowed them to believe they owned our lives with their coffers in exchange for protection.

But in reality, there's no one protecting us. There's no one here to save us. Wars are fought by Patriots told they're dying for a just cause, when billionaires and corporations benefit most from the dead soldiers. Unstable cops become crooked by corruption, when they should uphold the law equally to all. Justices are poisoned by myth and faith, when they should be looking out for what's best for all of humanity, first and foremost.

Principles mean nothing if not guided by altruistic and harmonic purpose.

Fear tortures us. Fear manipulates us. Fear divides us. Fear has us chasing dreams that we cannot reach. Fear has us hurting each other to secure our piece of the survival pie.

In the harming of others, we harm ourselves beyond repair. The ghosts of damage never leave our side. The spectre of greed hovers like a wicked nurse.

Bigger is not better. Less is more. We chase riches and burn the fuel of time in our engines.

When will enough be enough?

When will we recognize that the chase isn't worth the sacrifice?

When will start to elect leaders that speak for us all, not just those who own the present track?

The last year featured me chasing my dream with all of the resources I was able to collect over the last decade. I raced out of my stable life with guns blazing and revolution on my horizon. Ultimately, the chase didn't go as planned. The road was fraught with danger and struggle, and the image I had in my mind of escape was colored by bullshit, self-help propaganda, and an overload of self-confidence.

Along the way I lost myself, but was reacquainted with someone I dismissed along the road:

The Survivor.

Somewhere, there's a man with three fewer shots in his gun, a police squad chasing him, and an inevitable life on the run. However he managed to arrive at that scene, his odds of survival have been reduced.  All of his dreams have been exchanged for nightmare scenarios, and survival is now his penultimate priority.

Feels like the story of each of us in 2020, minus the blaze of glory.



Artemis Sere Serestatic Egg Me On
Saturday, April 25, 2020. 69°. Mostly sunny, partly cloudy, whatever.

Gorgeous, warm weekend day. The days are a bit of a blur to me right now, so I had to verify that it was Saturday. Without much structure, no job, little fire and inspiration, forced to stay home and maintain distance,

I'm mostly floating.

We all float down here. And wear masks and other face coverings to stave the flu away.

That's the here and now. Some deny, as most of the people I passed today not wearing face masks and not observing distance. Mouthbreathers with no clue whether or not they're asymptomatic carriers of the bug. 

I wish I could live that naive and care-free. In my state, testing opportunities for COVID-19 have have blown up, and I plan to get tested next week. I'm hoping for a positive serology test, one that identifies that I've had this coronavirus and have some antibodies to battle the coming waves and chances of re-infection.

I walk along the river in daylight and wear a bandana over my face when people approach. It is said you can catch the virus downwind when walking near people. While I'm concerned about what they could be giving to me through their heavy breathing, I'm more worried about giving them what I had.

For a month coronavirus symptoms kicked my ass. I feel better now, but I know it's not gone. I feel it in the shadow parts of me. It drains, rattles and rages in the small hours, when life is low and the bugs crawl. It ruins my slumber with deep coughs and breathless dreams.

I wonder if they know sleep. Does the virus ever rest?

If not, woe be the human race. We are no match for voracious, careless and unfeeling monsters we know little about and of which we have no control.

The tan line from bandanas will soon be a summer fashion statement.

Speaking of statements, I went out to my Mitsubishi Outlander today to find an egg or two smashed on the driver's side windshield. I'd just come back from grabbing my Mitsubishi Eclipse from winter storage in WI, so I know the egging happened in the last day.

I stood before it in awe and concern. I confirmed that it couldn't have accidentally happened (eg. fallen from a nest). Based on trajectory of smash and egg white spray across my glass, it was clearly thrown, and probably not from a moving vehicle.

The act begs the question of "why", regardless of angle of offense. 

I suppose I should be worried about the "who" a bit more, considering my beloved Trek bike was stolen off the same vehicle last summer. I have a hard time believing in coincidence. I've made frenemies, but don't know of any threats. I know I haven't led a cookie-cutter Americana life. I take positions that are unpopular and am outspoken. I am chaotic good.

The statement was either juvenile or intentional, and, either way, totally uncool and disappointing.

King Dictator makes asinine statements all the time. Many times he does so to egg on his enemies and antagonists to action, spurs his cult to spread his lies like contagion.

In a different time, I would've felt compelled to investigate such an offensive act, find some measure of justice or vengeance,

but the float has become me.

We all float down here.

Especially the ones who were dumb enough to drink bleach or breathe disinfectants at the recommendation of America's idiot King.

Just being sarcastic, of course. 

You know what's suckier than having egg smashed on the windshield of your car? Having A Ha's classic song "Take On Me"stuck in your head, only replacing "Take" with "Egg". That's been my soundtrack of madness today.

"Egg on me, Egg me on…"

You're welcome. Not you who actually egged my car.

No egg for you.


Artemis Sere Serestatic Egg Me On

Xoterica 29: The Sickness

Artemis Sere Xoterica 29 The Sickness

“It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me.” (Disturbed)

Pardon my departure from Bruce Lee as the intro quote for this edition of Xoterica. I wrote this blog while suffering from virus-induced pink eye, and that called for different inspiration for this blog.

Contrary to the popular Disturbed song from the year 2000 (video featured at the end of this blog), I'm not down with the sickness. In fact, I'm sick of being sick. Sick of being cooped up. Sick of the coughs, the doldrums and the unknowns. Sick of relying on social programs to keep me afloat.

I want myself and the rest of humanity to stand up strong and resolute in the face of viral tragedy.

Easier said than done.

It feels like I've been sick forever. I can't tell you when the illness started for me, and I'm not sure if or when it will end. My days feel decent and my nights are torturous. Every day I take baby steps towards better, a new symptom or recurrence of an old one creeps back into my reality. I feel broken, useless, and exhausted from the fight.

Coronavirus or COVID-19 has been a beast of a novel virus. It has inflected millions around the world and killed thousands. Without aggressive approaches to social distancing, it could've been much worse, but it hasn't come without some severe pain for all.

Commerce and capitalism have crashed with millions sick or protecting themselves from getting sick. Unemployment numbers are at levels never seen before in modern times. Companies are getting bailouts left and right, and certain citizens were granted one-time "survival funds". Political and cultural divisions have been exacerbated by austere guidelines put in place to slow the spread of the infection.

We can all feel relieved that measures have worked and have helped us steer clear of a Spanish Flu-level apocalypse, but the reality is that our fight against the coronavirus is far from over. It's considered novel because no human has ever encountered it before, thus no immune system has a defense against it.

For the elderly, obese or people with pre-existing conditions, it is a dance with death; for the young and healthy, it is an inconvenience and silent slayer - not of the individual carrying, but to those who come in contact that can catch their asymptomatic state.

No one is safe from this virus. The best thing we can do is stay in our caves and build immunities from the fell communities. And we've done a pretty good job of distance, even if King Dictator is impatient and wanting America to get back to normal life asap. Capitalism is dying on the vine, and socialism - or programs that help humans survive and thrive - is getting renewed appreciation.

Even though I will vote for Biden, I am a full-fledged fan of former candidate Andrew Yang and his Universal Basic Income proposal. I used to support the idea as part of societal evolution and the transhumanist vision of how robots will replace humans in key jobs in the near future, reducing the active workforce. I now recognize how destabilizing global public health emergencies can be.

And how frequent they probably will become.

While SARS and MERS didnt lead to a global pandemic that dismantled the foundations of civilization, COVID-19 has - and will for years to come. It has disrupted travel, trade and economic activity. It has put 22 million people out of work in the US in a matter of a month and is escalating around the world. It has shuttered stores, restaurants, gyms, salons, schools and places of worship. It has overwhelmed hospitals and exposed systemic failures in our emergency preparedness and virus testing capabilities.

It has brought humankind to a grinding halt. With coughs, fatigue, and chills.

I truly don't know when my case began. Since it can take three weeks for serious symptoms to show, it's very possible I was sick with it in February and didn't know it. Hell, word is that the virus has been circulating since November 2019, so who knows how long it has actually been in the populous. I could've been an asymptomatic carrier until I was exposed enough to succumb to symptoms. My Mom and girlfriend were really sick in early February, but I didn't exhibit symptoms until March.

Since I've been a recluse for much of the last year, my public exposure has been limited, but could you imagine if this would've kicked in around Black Friday or Xmas? Oh the holiday horror!

The last social event I experienced was St Patrick's day lunch with my Mom. After that, everything started shutting down. Work-from-home and shelter-in-place orders became commonplace. Stores ran out if essentials, like toilet paper. Restaurants turned to take-out only services.

Pandemic led to panic.

And here we are now, a month or so into the spread, and King Dictator and his red drones want to cry "Uncle" and get the economic engines running again. Plans are being made to "re-open" the country in May, even though testing isn't accessible and the medical system is already overwhelmed. Some on the right have even claimed they'd kill or die for their country, that virus numbers are overblown and inaccurate, and the gamble is worth the tragic outcome.

I wish those assholes could say that to my face. I'd give them a piece of my virus, so they could relate.

My infection started slow, but built quickly. As someone prone to bronchial infections and pneumonia, it really was just a matter of time. I had a respiratory infection every year growing up, tend to have bronchitis in winter and have become mildly asthmatic for various reasons, including pot use for my ulcerative colitis treatment. Azithromyacin, or Z-pack, has been my common treatment for coughs and wheeze, but my antibiotic resistance is growing stronger and I'm now cautious about when I use it.

Hence, I've done my best to battle COVID-19 with vitamins and homeopathic treatments. I knew that if I went to the ER with my symptoms, I would've been put on a Z-pack and told to go back home and social distance. While my attack of the virus has been uncomfortable, there have been many worse than I, and I know they deserve the priority. There is no cure for coronavirus, just remediation of symptoms.

So I waged my own war. Shut down most interaction with the outside world. Pumped myself full of vitamins and disappeared into the haze of virus.

The cough settled in deep, but unlike previous bronchial infections, never seemed to advance further. I experienced chest rattles, dry coughs, green goo and shortness of breath. Headaches, lack of appetite and fatigue. The nights were sleepless and the days were a blur. More recently, I've experienced sinus infections and pink eye, assumedly because I've been stuck in the house for weeks and am lacking fresh air.

I haven't been officially tested and confirmed with COVID-19, but I don't need a test to tell me how sick I've been, or a Doctor to confirm my symptoms and tell me to do what I've already been doing. My distance has saved lives, at least saved the health of others and my beloved.

There's so much about this new bug that we still don't know, but as we normally do as arrogant humans, we think we have it under control. Where it came from is relatively irrelevant. As overpopulation becomes the norm on our little blue dot, viruses of unknown origin and of which we have no defense, will become more commonplace. Humankind is too interconnected to believe we're safe from this happening again, next time with more dire results. Mutations of viruses are happening with stunning regularity, and expose the flaws in our human affluence and overconfidence.

While we fight each other over benign things such as abortion, gay rights and immigration, the next viral bullet is sliding into the chamber and waiting for the trigger to be pulled. We could use COVID-19 as the event that harmonizes humanity and brings us closer together to solve global problems.

Instead, we point fingers and conduct rallies to return to normalcy.

The wise creature would accept that things will never be normal and the same as before, that the war we're waging against the biological world will continue long after we're dead. The prudent approach would be to prepare ourselves for the next wave, or the next novel antagonist this race will face. We've danced with viral death before, and should be able to set aside our arrogance, affectations and addictions for the sake of humanity. Instead of making things better for all, we wish upon Kingdoms, commerce and deities for deliverance and protection.

Wishful thinking will be our wanton undoing. Instead of asking when we will get back to normal, we should be working together to define a new, better normal for all. COVID-19 wont be the last bug humankind wages war against.

And loses.

#xoterica #humanfirst