by Johnny Bananas

“Here we come, walkin’

Walkin’ down the street

We get the funniest looks from

Ev’ry one we meet

Hey, hey, we’re the maskless

And people say we monkey around

But we’re too full of freedom

To put anybody down.”

Despite the overwhelming evidence that masks don’t work, unless the goal is to stoke fear and silence the little people, the return of the mask mandates is on its way.  Bank tellers, grocery checkers, pedestrians on sweltering hot days, dogs, cats, swimmers, politicians on camera (not off), everyone but ex-presidents throwing birthday parties or Speakers of the House throwing fundraisers are slapping their jaw-straps back on because…they were told to…by other adults with a nanny complex who are obligated to SAVE THE WORLD!

Now we can be angry about virtue signaling, obeisance, socialism, ignorance, anti-science, anxiety, tyranny.

But look at it this way.

Masks have, in many ways, brought us together while forcing us apart.  That’s called versatility. Who hasn’t noticed a sense of camaraderie when they see a fellow carbon-bot being guided around by their imported pseudo-medical conscience covering? It’s as if one gigantic hide and seek tribe has formed around the world, a perpetual Halloween, and we get to play it every day of the year.

I can’t think of anything more fitting than this puerile passion play involuntarily imposed on society, for our own good of course, that harmonizes with the encroaching societal shift back to middle school thinking and behavior. 

Maybe they’ll bring back recess! (Fingers crossed.)

No other peoples in all of human history can claim the joy of sitting in front of their screen with a custom professional sports team style face concealment device, or the even more ironic “I got my vaccine” mask, as they scroll through thumbnails written by Ivy League graduates with the headline “TRUMP SLAMS CNN REPORTER” or “PSAKI OWNS FOX NEWS”. Titles so titillating one forgets the face bra covering their mouth nipple now forced to suckle at the teat of the expert du jour.  

Who isn’t thankful that science is on the way out, no longer there to hound us with immutable facts and laws? It’s just another oppressor, and we’ve had enough of those, haven’t we, white people? Life, and even the absence thereof, is far more interesting when you can simply fit the facts and change the laws to suit the moment.  

People don’t really care about the truth, not when it’s all relative anyway. Your truth is yours and mine is mine, and if you got elected to office then it’s only fair that you get to make yours up as you go along, right? Say it with me – science-ish. We can’t have science bothering us with things like empirical data, or trends and charts that say something other than what we really want – because it is about US after all.  

Data points, figures, facts, they’re all there to help us decide what to do, not boss us around. Just like the textiles industry when they decided people need to feel better about their fatness so let’s make these thirty-eight inch waistbands say thirty-six. Fat doesn’t care about our feelings. 

We need to seize this opportunity to embrace the constant coddling of our arrested and underdeveloped psyches these mask mandates have to offer.  Several studies have shown masks are literally retarding children, and who doesn’t want to bring back the word retard? It’ so junior high.  Speaking of junior high, with the vaccines nearly cleared for infants it’s only a matter of time before the FDA approves edibles for kids, you know, to take the edge off the constant and inescapable sense of dread.  

My mutual fund is going to skyrocket once that happens.  Thank you school boards! 

I just can’t say enough good things about where this is headed. The rainbow people now have the excuse to change mask colors every day, like mood rings. And to think Tucker Carlson said masks are a communist mind control device to keep us from communicating.  Check your privilege, Tucker. And check out my canary yellow maw cloth with the smiley face emoji that tell everyone I’m just fine, and the thin rubber band ear straps that let me stretch it when I want to breathe. There’s a privilege I don’t have to feel bad about. 

Johnny Bananas is a mostly peaceful, not fully vaccinated raving reporter who covers the local and global fake news stories of the day.