Covid Feuilleton #13

[Cape Town, 10/29/21]

It’s exactly 6:05AM as I type this. Sitting in my landlord’s gazebo in Windhoek, Namibia, I can hear crickets and, off and on, various birds communicating, with some just squawking, while others stringing together complicated, nearly Joycean sentences, with borderline bizarre syntaxes. Doves kvetch. The neighbor’s rooster has gone quiet.

This morning, I found yet another millipede in my living room. They tend to crawl in to escape a hard rain. When lying on the floor, a Vietnamese tendency, I must be careful to not roll over one. With their military grade carapace, they can’t just be squashed casually.

After slipping a piece of paper under this thin little guy, I took him outside to deposit him, most lovingly, on some black earth. I’m going to miss you! Cut the shit, he mumbled back. Brave, this one didn’t ball up.

Ponderous and pensive, millipedes tend to be intellectuals, it’s obvious, and with their tightly focused and patient mindset, lean towards arcane scholarship. Considering their coffee hued body, sand colored legs and copper tinted whiskers, they’re not bad looking either, so why aren’t millipedes more social? Has anyone ever seen several, or just two, millipedes together? Like us, they must have mostly, if not exclusively, virtual sex. It’s not too late to invest in millipede porn.

I’ve been in Sub-Saharan Africa for nearly six months. Leaving Albania, I arrived in South Africa on 8/4/21. After three months in magnificent and distinctive Cape Town, I took a bus to mellow Windhoek. At the border, a South African guard kept asking me, most obnoxiously, if I knew Bill Gates? Another said while holding up a bottle of Castle Beer he had dug from my bag, “What is this?” At their mercy, I couldn’t crack, “It’s a tusk from the elephant I killed yesterday.”

Tomorrow, I will get my visa extended. During this Covid madness, black Africa has been saner and calmer than everywhere else, so why not linger in Namibia? With Vietnam still closed, I can’t return anyway.

White progressives in the West keep braying that it’s unfair so few black Africans have been “vaccinated” against Covid, but most people here simply don’t trust such jabs. Previous vaccines from whites have maimed or killed too many of their children, so bug off, OK? Nearly each time I raised this issue in Cape Town or Windhoek, I got a hearty agreement that Covid “vaccines” are dangerous, with some even telling me about adverse reactions, including deaths, among their acquaintances. Black Africans also remember that the presidents of Burundi and Tanzania died mysteriously after mocking the Covid hysteria, with Pierre Nkurunziza even expelling the World Health Organization from his country.

Ignoring most Covid nonsense, black Africans go on with their lives. The lack of tourists has certainly hurt. Just as travelers were returning, the Omicron brouhaha chased them away. Many here believe South Africa was punished for refusing to buy more “vaccines,” though it couldn’t even use up those already bought.

Come on, Africans, get with the program! Be Jewjabbed like all these Jewjacked countries! Germany, Canada and Australia, for example, have doomsday stocks of immune wrecking clot shots to last for years! The Pi, Rho, Sigma, Tau, Upsilon, Phi, Chi, Psi and Omega variants are coming!

Pfizer stock has only gone up 42% since the start of this scamdemic! Poor Mr. Albert “remember the Holocaust” Bourla! Let’s all chip in, be crippled or die to jack up this man’s fortune! Jewish Sassoon ruined China with opium. Jewish Sacklers got millions addicted to OxyContin. Now, Jewish Bourla can outdo them by directly killing millions while laying waste to entire societies!

Meanwhile, Jewish Ron Unz still feigns indifference, “As many readers already know, I haven’t taken much interest in either the details of the Covid illness or the vaccines deployed against it.” The Jew jabs aren’t deployed against the “illness,” you race-baiting limited hangout hustler, but all of humanity! Turning the world upside down, the Covid “vaccines” have already killed hundreds of thousands, at least, while causing even more to lose their businesses or jobs, yet here’s a self-styled leading intellectual claiming to have almost no interest in them!

[Cape Town, 9/10/21]

With so few tourists, all the carved hippos, elephants and giraffes are arrayed in vain on Post Street Mall. One afternoon, I saw a group of rural Nama with their wooden animals, just walking in silence. It’s apparent they had come into the city for the day thinking they’d make a few bucks. At my guesthouse, there’s a white Namibian tour guide with his idle safari truck. I haven’t seen him smile once. When he said he wanted to emigrate, I asked, “Where to?” He couldn’t answer. Our trash bin is filled with cans of Tafel Lite he’s guzzled.

At least all the markets in Windhoek are well stocked, from Food Lover’s, Checkers, Shoprite, Ok Supermarkt to the mom and pops. There are no supply line problems here. Keep in mind that Namibia is mostly desert, with nearly everything imported. By contrast, many American supermarket shelves are empty! How can this be?

It’s all part of the plan, you see, to destroy the common man, while the Jewjuked American left stands by! Forced to close for weeks because they’re “nonessential,” thousands of small businesses have gone bankrupt, furthering the evisceration of Main Street. “Unvaccinated” truckers are prevented from crossing between the US and Canada, resulting in more empty shelves. Thousands of nurses, doctors, cops and firemen have been fired for being unjabbed, leading to breakdowns of essential services. Police departments have been defunded, so we have record levels of crimes, with those by blacks downplayed or even encouraged the Jewish media, leading to more racial tension, thus more division. Whites are stoked to rage at all blacks by writers like the Unz-supported Kersey, Sailer and Derbyshire, none of whom ever probes into the Jewish machination of black crime.

As of 1/23/22, the Covid theater of the absurd continues, though the UK and Ireland have just lifted most of their restrictions. Perhaps the pushback has gotten too intense, and they’ve murdered enough people for now. It’s likely they’re just giving us a breather before their next nasty surprise. It’s hard to believe that, after years of planning, they’re giving up their Great Reset. We must fight even harder. The totalitarianism in France, Germany and Austria have only hardened.

While in Cape Town, I emailed a writer I admired, with a request for a meeting, something I almost never do. Though he was extremely helpful during my stay there, we never had a few beers together. He couldn’t come out, he said, because he and his wife had agreed to not leave the house until Covid was over. Their two daughters, too, had been locked inside for over a year.

This, from a man who had hung out, for months on end, with some of the roughest characters in Cape Town, a city more violent than Kingston, San Salvador, Juarez or Baltimore. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. When I texted him that I almost got mugged by three youths on the edge of the Grand Parade, he wryly concluded I had been officially welcomed to Cape Town!

Agreeing, I shared with him a Vietnamese proverb, “Go out at night often enough, you’ll see ghosts,” which he thought perfect. So there you have it. Wandering around at night, noon, afternoon or before dawn, you may get hit by a sucker punch, car, ballistic missile or virus, none very likely, but you’re assured of being alive among many other live beings, all painfully gorgeous, even the ugliest, and all frightfully perfect, even godlike, and I’m not even talking about my newest friend, the millipede.

Granted, all that may not be enough for the most cantankerous, hypochondriac or misanthropic among you, but without it, you have no life at all. Stay in your cell, buddy.

Even in the depths of my sickness in Tirana, I had no regrets about being out and about. One bad month out of twelve was hardly a high tax. I must say, though, that Corona-chan delivered all right. On top of me, she hardly let me breathe for ten days. Engulfing, she sucked me right into the glove I never had, growing up.

When something is so bad, it’s almost good, because so memorable, so thank you, Corona-chan, for giving me the worst fuckin’ sex ever. Coming from me, that’s the ultimate compliment.

Don’t call me again, sweetie. I still have your number.

[Windhoek, 1/12/22]