I saw a video on Instagram that depicted two perspectives of the same incident shot from two different security cameras in a convenience store.
The first camera shows two people standing in line and waiting to purchase their items; suddenly, what looks like a speeding bullet rams harmlessly past them, slamming into and shattering the plexiglass. If not for the plexiglass, that cashier would have been creamed.
The second camera angle shows the viewer that it was not a bullet at all, but a depressurizing bottle of soda. The camera records a man removing a liter of soda from the refrigerator, fumbling with it for a second and then dropping it. As it hits the ground the lid pops off, the force of the pressure from carbonation transforming it into a flying projectile that slammed into the aforementioned plexiglass.
When contents are under pressure and then forcefully released, there is nowhere for those contents to go but out. They shur ain’t gonna stay in. Pressured things, when released, explode.
(Must I make the obligatory sexual reference here? You know where my mind always is. Sigh).
Moving on. Let’s say you’re angry at your mate for eating your favorite yogurt. The first time you open the fridge to see that your raspberry-caramel Yoplait isn’t in there, you brush it off. “No big deal,” you think, as you leave the house to buy more. “There’s plenty of yogurt to go around.” But no matter how much you buy, you find that at least two to three times a week, when you open the refrigerator, there’s no Yoplait.
There’s Noplait.
What you should say to your darling but clueless spouse is this: “Hey hon, when you finish the last yogurt, would you mind going out and getting some more?”
Situation resolved.
But you don’t say anything. You don’t do anything. You let it fester. And the resentment, the anger, and the hurt feelings all build up until one night the two of you are at a friend’s cookout, and you see your buff hunky yogurt-eating Hub innocently talking to a beautiful young girl. You watch them laughing together over the potato salad, and you become enraged. You stalk up to him and insist he take you home, You give him the silent treatment in the car as he tries his darndest to understand what-in-the-Sam-hill he did wrong for you to have caused the scene you just made at the barbeque. As soon as you get in the house, you let him have it.
How could I have ever married someone insensitive like you? Do you ever think how it makes me look when you flirt? You made me look like a fool back there. You never think of anyone except yourself. We go to these parties, and you talk to everyone but me. Why are you such a flirt? What were you two talking about? Were you laughing about me? Are you dating her? What’s the deal, because if you want a young girl like that, go right ahead, just prepare me so I can hire a divorce lawyer. It’s like the yogurt. You help yourself to my yogurt, and never even think how I will feel when I reach in and it’s not in there. You never go to the store and replenish my yogurt when you know I need it for my diet. You can eat anything you want, but you eat my diet foods. You can sleep in your car tonight.
Yikes. He stands there, flabbergasted at this turn of events, because he had no idea that you got angry when he ate your yogurt. He wishes you would have just told him. Because he would have gotten you more.
Contents under pressure may explode.
So we’re on what, month 14? Month 14 of fear, or worry, or boredom, or medical issues, or unemployment, or financial hardship, or depression, or alcoholism, or drug use, or academic regression, or social isolation, or internet dependency.
Sure, many of us are fine. But many are not. Tensions are high, and the news is toxic right now, globally, nationally and locally. Contents under pressure have been boiling and building, and now there is nowhere for these problems to go but OUT.
And the media is enjoying the hell out of it.
The media right now is like the weather in the movie “The Perfect Storm” (video embedded below). The boys on the boat have been fighting the storm for days, but as they watch the sunrise finally peek through the storm clouds, they celebrate. Finally, they think, better days are ahead, with the storm behind them. They fought, they battled, they gave it their all, and now they will be rewarded.
But Billy Tyne knows better. He looks at the weather in front of him, and as dark clouds once again obscure the sun, shadows cover his face, and he shakes his head.
“She’s not gonna let us out.”
The media won’t let us out. It continues, day after day, to pummel us with rain and lightning and thunder, and every time we think we see a clearing on the horizon, however small, the media makes sure to set us straight.
No, it says, you are not in the clear. There will be no celebrating today. There is still plenty to be afraid of. They spin their narrative of fear until we are tossed around in it like whirling dervishes- any hint of optimism it is quickly squelched, and any small victory instantly mitigated and diminished.
Sure, the vaccination is available, BUT….
Well, yes, cases are going down, BUT…
Of course schools are open, BUT…
Sometimes masks aren’t necessary, BUT…
Feel free to eat in restaurants, BUT…
Well, no, small children cannot spread it, BUT…
Obviously herd immunity is close, BUT…
I guess travel is safe, BUT…
Even the local Patch got in on the fun yesterday.
Well, yes, admittedly there are only 106 bobcats in New Jersey, and yes, they are introverted and shy, and of course they do not seek out confrontations with humans, but you know, there was this bobcat in Colorado that stared at this little girl for a few seconds, so you know, they ARE around. What? Oh, the girl is fine, you know, the thing just stared at her, BUT you know, it COULD have been worse...
What the fuck? So why bring it up? Why give it attention? The Patch wants us to be vigilant about something that is mostly not deadly, mostly minds its own business, mostly doesn’t occur often, mostly doesn’t affect 99.9 percent of the population, and mostly is not threatening when it confronts a human.
Sound familiar?
They’ve told us, over and over, and we’ve listened. Get tested, social distance, wear a mask, social distance, sanitize, social distance, wear two masks, social distance, wear a plastic shield, social distance, get vaccinated, social distance, still wear a mask, social distance…
“Oh,” they say, “you say you’ve done all those things? Wonderful! But I’m sorry, it’s still not enough. We don’t care. Work harder.”
Jesus H. Christ. I can’t listen anymore. I’m off the news. I check it quickly once a day to see what’s happening, then I don’t listen or watch or read again. I don’t want to get creamed by an exploding soda bottle.
I’m not implying that we should stick our heads in the sand. But it is important to not feed the toxic media frenzy, and we can at least do our part in keeping it at bay, for our mental health. After all, isn’t the terror knowing what the world is about?
Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da.
It’s ok.