Our ongoing game of Name That Apocalypse rolls into its pandemic phase. With the near shutdown of China and Italy cancelling Carnival come together into a full-blown panic. The market sell-off, CDC cuts, and old Mother-humper Mike Pence merge into a story that typifies a our society of stupidity moving at full speed.

The media chews all of this down into the political pissing match structure, and find that most people in the pundit sphere are barely competent talking point generators, and can’t deliver anything resembling information. They’re trained to shout across satellite feeds over chyrons between commercials for boner pills and doomsday prep.

We all want to shed the tyranny of the every day, and what better way than being a footnote in a generation defining pandemic? The Spanish Flu never had deathbed Instagram posts. At least if this is it, the decline will be well documented for the survivors.

At the same time, if the Coronavirus ends up skipping past the US, it’ll be quickly forgotten, and the next contestant for our ongoing signs of the apocalypse will step up. I doubt our doom will be coming soon, but at this point I’d probably welcome it.

Photo Credit - Ari Helminen