Item
PANDEMIC 2020
Title (Dublin Core)
PANDEMIC 2020
Description (Dublin Core)
Description of feelings on Boris Johnson getting the COVID-19 virus.
Date (Dublin Core)
Creator (Dublin Core)
Contributor (Dublin Core)
Type (Dublin Core)
Text
Controlled Vocabulary (Dublin Core)
Curator's Tags (Omeka Classic)
Collection (Dublin Core)
Curatorial Notes (Dublin Core)
Date Submitted (Dublin Core)
04/06/2020
Date Modified (Dublin Core)
10/24/2020
01/30/2021
10/12/2021
Date Created (Dublin Core)
04/06/2020
Text (Omeka Classic)
I was shocked, with a smattering of satisfaction, when a few days ago I learned that Boris Johnson had contracted the virus. Earlier, I’d felt revulsion when I read the Brexit hardliner had initially brushed off medical precautions such as social distancing (had he taken his cue from DJT?), suggesting that people should just get the virus and then become immune. But when I realized he was in the hospital, I felt a shiver of concern, and today, learning he’d been transferred to the ICU, I actively wished he would survive. I surprised myself. Why, when only a month or two earlier, I’d placed him second only to the Trump-Pence-McConnell triumvirate in my personal hierarchy of detestable people? Was I afraid I’d no longer be able to hate him if he died? Would I feel guilty, as if my happiness that he was sick had caused his death? I honestly don’t know why I don’t want him to die. Surely, if he recovers, he’ll go on to do other harmful things in Britain. But that’s not enough reason for me to cheer his death. Even now, I’m sure his treatment is privileged. But for some reason I can’t summon up a death wish for Boris.
Accrual Method (Dublin Core)
1729