212,768 American deaths from covid 19 and counting. I read online that President Trump is having trouble breathing and that White House officials are “concerned”. In the words of one of the Trumps, let me just say “I really don’t care. Do U?” Maybe they could ask Eric Garner or George Floyd about it; I’m sure they’d have something to say on the subject were it not for their untimely deaths.
Ah, but I should be concerned, say the pundits, since the election could be thrown into chaos should one of the candidates (God forbid) die or become incapacitated. And that would be different how? One party—mine—is already doing everything it can to throw the election into chaos by practicing massive vote (not voter) fraud, while the other is hoping that a grotesquely feeble candidate will inspire a turnout so massive that all the fraud in the world won’t be enough to stop the juggernaut. It’s a sad end for the American experiment, but not undeserved—from where I sit, anyway.
I can’t help but hope that posterity will take our intentions into account as well as our achievements; our reach always exceeded our grasp. It’s like that epitaph for Wernher von Braun—“He shot for the moon—and hit London.” Rest in peace, American hopes and aspirations for a better tomorrow. It’s over. Time to pack up our things and go home.