On a whim, I bought "Assassin's Creed Odyssey" during today's Humble Bundle sale. I've been hearing so much about the upcoming one, that it sounded like fun to try the series for the very first time. Not sure why it took me so long to pick one of these up.

On a different topic, I've traveled via airplane several times since "9/11", and the process still feels like queuing up for Dr. Mengele. I picked up "Baker's Square" for wifey for Mother's Day over the weekend, and I felt like I was at the airport: they had giant taped lines on the floor, a probably six foot tall glass facade between me and the cashier, and that all-too-familiar general sense of nervousness in the air.

Now I'm reading that just like "9/11", a lot of this B.S. is not going away, perhaps ever. Just like how I've avoided air travel at all costs due to the TSA over the past twenty-odd years, it seems now that I'll also be avoiding restaurants, theme parks, and grocery stores as well for maybe the rest of my life. The first two will save me money and cause me to eat more nutritiously, and as for the latter, there appear to be a plethora of delivery-based options.

Regarding all of this so-called "social distancing" anyway, I doubt it accomplishes virtually anything. My brother said that one time immediately after he took in a big mouthful of chocolate milk, he suddenly had an unsupressable sneeze: he bent far over and let it go into the crook of his arm-- and even with that mess-preventative attempt, he said he was finding particles of chocolate milk days later, more than a dozen feet from where he had been standing. "If someone had a virus and sneezed or even coughed", he concluded, "microscopic particles would be on your pants, on your coat, in our hair, on your glasses, on every surface around, and maybe even beneath your finger nails if your hand was positioned right."

Today, I watched the gal at a local restaurant I frequent follow this process: fresh gloves; touches keypad on terminal; touches customer's credit card; touches keypad again; hands customer pen; takes pen back from customer, puts on counter top; handles bag of food and cup, passes to customer; takes off gloves, touching with bare hands in process; puts on new gloves for the next customer, then touches all of those things with the new pair. See some gaps in the flow?

Then the customer gets back to their car, touches the door handle, touches the steering wheel, touches the seat belt, gets home, retrieves their keys from their pocket, touches the door to their house, goes in and washes their hands, but then touches the bag of food again. See some gaps in that flow too?

And all of reality works like that: if you actually keep a mental log of every process you do in life, you are never, ever going to be able to avoid getting sick, if someone around you is. You probably catch dozens of illnesses every year, and your immune system fights them off, becoming stronger in the process. If you actually try to plug every loophole, envisioning a virus-proof process, it involves being so miserable that you may as well just blow your brains out, versus trying to live that way. That's why people with major OCD are often driven to suicide.

All of this glove wearing, "stay six feet away", mask-- or bandanna, hilariously-- wearing is pure theater: designed to make people feel safe, not actually be materially safer from getting ill. I'm not going to participate in a society where every public space feels like a TSA checkpoint. And so, a Michael Jackson-style surgical mask is never going to touch my face, no matter what it costs me. Absolute worst-case scenario, I'll just move to the bug-out house-- that's why I have it-- and live primarily off the land, bartering with family and neighbors-- many of whom will be like-minded, undoubtedly-- for the things I need.

Finally, say what you will about Donald Trump-- there is lots to like, and lots to dislike-- but be aware that if you vote for Joe Biden, you're actually putting his unelected cabinet in charge of the entire country: I'm not trying to be mean-spirited, but he quite literally can't remember what time zone he's in or what his wife looks like half the time-- he's almost completely senile. Him as President would be like that "Star Trek" episode with the drugged puppet leader.