Welcome to the abbreviated Weekend Edition! It’s Saturday, and as the lovely Michelle rested in our room, I had a few minutes to eke out a short roundup for you. Normally, autobiographical context is something to be dribbled out in very small doses; while regular readers love to hear about their favorite authors’ real lives, too much of that can be painfully boring to anyone, and it drives new readers back to the Internet to find something more interesting, like cat memes. But I HAVE to tell you about what happened yesterday when we checked in.

And a couple quick, timely stories to tide you over, about the world’s overwhelmed hospitals and some good news about our favorite vaccine-injured senator.

🗞*WORLD NEWS AND COMMENTARY* 🗞

💉 We checked into a lovely little B&B yesterday, and everything went smoothly, at least it went smoothly after we adjusted to the strict “do it our way” rules system. Fortunately, their way worked out just fine. After we got sorted, they let us in our cute little room, we jammed the luggage on the cart, and ambled out the back doors to look over the property. That’s when real life first started creeping back in, like a broke relative who just wants to live in the garage.

Everything was going just swimmingly, it was an idyllic beginning to Michelle’s gala birthday getaway. We’d agreed that we’re NOT talking about the you-know-whats, we’re just going to ignore the world’s problems for a couple days, just be normal, and do normal types of things normal adults do on normal weekend getaway vacations.

It couldn’t last.

The first jarring moment — remember, this is in FLORIDA — was strolling out the back doors and noticing a bunch of large, ominous, yellow and black warning stickers prominently affixed to the French glass. I took a picture of one:

They gave us a lot of rules, but they weren’t enforcing THIS rule. In fact, apart from the stickers, they never mentioned it. They certainly never asked to see our medical papers, which would have been illegal in Florida anyway. Giving the B&B’s owners the benefit of the doubt, we decided they probably now regretted selecting the extra-large-sized, super-sticky, impossible-to-remove types of labels. Getting all those labels cleanly off the glass will be a meticulous job requiring a razor blade and a lot of patience.

The stickers had Michelle and I bemused and perhaps, a little satisfied, if I can be completely honest, after all our difficult labors beating back passports and mandates over the last few years. I guess we felt kind of like how an East German might have felt a few years after the Berlin Wall came down, when they opened a dusty door someplace and found a leftover Stasi propaganda poster. “Allies of the World, Masks Mandatory!”

So you can imagine how we must have about this next part.

After browsing around the well-groomed back terrace and the romantic garden, and after using the quaint key to return to the room, we began looking over a nice folder containing all the various paperwork, information, additional rules and local points of interest. Then I saw Michelle intently reading a paper that looked like a letter, and I could tell she had oddly stiff body language. When she finished, she handed it to me without saying a word.

Here’s what the letter said:

And there it was, the hideous visage of the you-know-whats. A life ruined by heart attack, stroke, and probably blood clots, and another life ruined by being intimately connected to the first wretched life. It was naive of us to think we could somehow avoid the heartbreaking detritus of the most diabolical and malevolent medical experiment ever recorded in the dark and lamentable catalogue of human crimes.

So, we’ve done it. We’ve surpassed the World War II’s wickedness, with all its apocalyptic suffering and unparalleled injury, inflicted on millions of innocent civilians in Europe and Asia, who’d done nothing worse than settle in the wrong hamlet. And we don’t even know the body count yet. We’re still in the fog of war.

But, stiff upper lip, what? Life goes on, and there remains a tremendous of painstaking work for we survivors, to make sure this never, ever happens again.

🔥 I know I keep saying this, but you really can’t make this stuff up. Reliable deep-state mouthpiece The Economist is promoting its latest fantasy — partly outside the paywall — headlined “Why Health-Care Services Are in Chaos Everywhere.”

Chaos! Everywhere! Let that appalling thought sink in for a minute.

It gets better. Here’s the sub-headline, which I could not possibly embellish: “Now is an especially bad time to suffer a heart attack.”

Haha! You don’t say.

The Economist didn’t mince words. From the top of the article’s second paragraph:

[H]ealth-care systems in much of the rich world are closer to collapse than at any point since the disease started to spread.

CLOSER to collapse, not farther away. So much for flattening the curve. Trying to protect the hospitals, they flattened the entire healthcare system instead. Public health experts engineered the exact opposite of what they promised us we were buying with the most expensive boondoggle in history.

It’s just too big now. They can’t hide it anymore. It’s not covid, it’s not “long covid,” and it’s happening EVERYWHERE, all over the world. Common sense dictates a common cause. They know it, and they know we know it. The Economist claimed it diligently researched health statistics all over the world, because governments are silent about the problem, and their intrepid reporters came up with several startling graphs like this one:

Yikes. Don’t have an emergency in England. And the graph’s little footnote is priceless: “A serious condition such as STROKE or CHEST PAIN.” It’s almost like they are trolling us.

So, what’s the playbook for a frightful bloomer like this? It’s time for a limited hangout to deflect the blame, of course. The Economist is shocked — shocked! and also appalled! — to discover that measureless human misery overwhelming the world’s medical systems was caused by so-called “public-health” experts who subjected all of humanity to … wait for it … lockdowns, which never stopped or even slowed the spread:

[T]he pandemic also bottled up other conditions, which are only now being diagnosed. In 2020-21 many people delayed seeking treatment for fear of catching covid, or because their local hospital was shut to non-covid conditions. In Italy cancer diagnoses fell by about 40% in 2020 compared with 2018-19. A study of American patients noted a particular reduction in diagnoses was recorded, over a similar period, in cancers normally found during a screening or routine examination.

The old “delayed treatment” fairy tale. As if healthy 43-year-olds would have gone to the hospital for preventative cancer screening if only the hospitals hadn’t been closed for everything except covid. I think it’s nonsense, of course. But that’s their story, and they are sticking to it. It doesn’t matter — we’ll know for sure this year, because all these health problems will either taper off or they won’t.

But for sake of argument, let’s go with “delayed treatment” as the cause of the imminent collapse of our healthcare system. It STILL means government bungled the pandemic. It STILL means the experts lied or were totally incompetent. It STILL means they must be held accountable. It’s not like they couldn’t have known: there were plenty of heterodox experts — real experts, not TV doctors — who warned that lockdowns would be bad news.

One sidesplitting absurdity they’ve created for themselves is that, if they want to go with “lockdown-induced delayed treatment” as the explanation for overwhelmed medical systems, they will have to give up their bookend excuse, that “we never tried REAL lockdowns.” So, which is it? We never did lockdowns, or we DID do lockdowns and they’ve led us to THIS?

Morons. They can’t even get their excuses straight.

I bet stressed-out, overworked healthcare workers are now wishing they could go back to the carefree, halcyon salad days of the middle of the pandemic:

Dr. Eli David @DrEliDavid

Remember these stupid dances of medical staff at the height of the "pandemic"? It was all a theater 🎭

9:41 PM ∙ Feb 10, 2023

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💉 The Hill ran a heartwarming article yesterday headlined, “Fetterman Leaves Hospital, Will Return to Senate Next Week.”

He’s fine!

On Tuesday, newly-elected Pennsylvania Senator John Fetterman sat blankfaced through Joe Biden’s State of the Union address. It wasn’t that Fetterman was bored — though who could blame him if he WAS bored — rather, Fetterman sat stoically blankfaced through the speech because he can’t understand human language anymore. To Fetterman, spoken words now sound like the grownups talking in a Charlie Brown cartoon. “Whah whah wah, blah blah blah blah whah.”

Fox News Politics @foxnewspolitics

Fetterman hears voices like the teachers in 'Peanuts' after stroke, struggles to adjust to Senate life: report

fxn.wsFetterman hears voices like the teachers in ‘Peanuts’ after stroke, struggles to adjust to Senate life: reportPennsylvania Sen. John Fetterman’s stroke caused severe auditory processing issues that are affecting him as he adjusts to life in the Senate,

12:50 PM ∙ Feb 10, 2023

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Since he got the shot, young Mr. Fetterman now runs on batteries (his pacemaker), can’t understand spoken English, and can’t form a coherent sentence. They’re calling it a “disability” and celebrating Fetterman as the “first disabled U.S. Senator.” Well, kind of.

Anyway, things got worse. Biden’s lame speech obviously didn’t set well with John, even though he couldn’t understand it, because the very next day he raced off to the hospital for three days of inpatient tests. Corporate media says John felt “lightheaded,” and for someone in John’s condition, being lightheaded means needing immediate emergency inpatient care.

The Hill says it was fortunately only a “health scare,” no reason to be alarmed, just being safe, abundance of caution and what not. They didn’t opine on whether John will be continue being evacuated from his important work in the Senate every single time he feels lightheaded.

But, it’s sort of unclear why Fetterman would be rushed to the hospital for feeling lightheaded anyway, since his “doctor” — who donated to his campaign — gave him a clean bill of health back in October:

See? He’s fine. But yesterday the New York Times ran a story headlined, “Fetterman, Recovering After Stroke, Labors to Adjust to Life in the Senate.” The Times doesn’t seem quite as hopeful as Fetterman’s doctor does:

He has had to come to terms with the fact that he may have set himself back permanently by not taking the recommended amount of rest during the campaign. And he continues to push himself in ways that people close to him worry are detrimental.

Huh. Permanently set back. And it might get worse, at this rate. But, why speculate? I wonder what John thinks about it all? But John’s not talking. And in case you were just thinking that we hadn’t heard much about anything from Mr. Fetterman lately, part of the reason is he doesn’t talk to the media anymore:

These days, Mr. Fetterman, who as lieutenant governor had reporters’ numbers in his cellphone and had near-constant running conversations with some of them, has stopped interacting with journalists, whose voices he often cannot hear in the echoing hallways.

Oh well. At least we can rest assured that John won’t leak sensitive information to reporters. I, for one, think it is great that we have a vaccine-injured person in the Senate. Even if Fetterman won’t vote to protect others from what he’s gone through, if nothing else he serves as a constant living reminder to every other lawmaker in Congress.

At least he had his booster.

Have a super Saturday! I’ll see you guys back here on Monday to get your week started the right way. Have a great weekend.

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