I’m not gonna lie; my money was on bird flu. I might have had some chips on Marburg and a few on some mysterious newfangled disease like Super Extra Deadly Black Death: The Apocalypse Edition. But unlike some people, I can actually admit when I’m wrong.
With roughly 82 sunsets between now and Election Day in the US, the Virus Formerly Known as Monkeypox* just made a splashy comeback that would make John Travolta jealous. Our beloved unelected health officials aren’t just telling us to be careful when consuming the raw flesh of an infected animal or getting kinky with an infected person; they’ve gone and officially declared “mpox” a full-scale G*H*E*I*C (Global Health Emergency of International Concern lock up your children, STAT).
*before the WHO changed it to the kinder, gentler, probably more inclusive mpox so as not to offend any monkeys?
It’s bad, you guys. From roughly this time last year, cases are up one hundred and sixty terrifying percent, and deaths are up nineteen oh-my-god-we’re-all-gonna-perish percent.
To put those perilous percentages into perspective, this year’s death total for mpox around the entire planet (the overwhelming majority of which have occurred in Africa) is… 524.
Five hundred and twenty-four.
I hope I don’t need to say it, but I will: Every death is a tragic one. [Please observe a solemn and sincere moment of silence for the dearly departed.] But compare the novel marsupialpox to, say, obesity—which kills 4.72 million people around the globe annually—or starvation— which causes 9 million heartbreaking deaths—or tuberculosis—which sends 1.3 million souls to the afterlife every year—or even anemia (low iron)—which snuffs out 6,021 lives in the US alone every twelve months—and it certainly makes one wonder what criteria the WHO is using to define an “emergency.”
So naturally, I looked it up. From the always trustworthy NIH website:
The potential to overwhelm routine community capabilities! OMG, call in the naval ships! Shut down all the schools! Order manufacturers to hyperproduce ventilators! Line up the refrigerated trucks! Shelter in place like your parents and grandparents did during the air raids!
This. Is. An. Emergency.
Except.
So, basically we are talking constipation, itchiness, and a little discomfort. It actually feels silly to be giving any time or attention to this asinine, apish declaration at all, save for the fact that we all know people, sadly, who are already right now stocking up on hand sanitizer and cancelling Christmas and scheduling their maiden mpox vaccines.
*Does anybody else smell a putrid vote-by-mail mandate coming?*
Seeing as this emergency doesn’t feel particularly emergent, tell me in the comments where you think they’re going with this because you know they’re going somewhere with it.
p.s. If you think I’m not awful, chances are other people you know might think I’m not awful, too. ;)
Here is how to avoid MPOX. Don’t have gay sex with unknown people. It’s that fucking simple.
Fully prepared this time. They aren't going to catch my family with the TP shortage again. 13 packages of 12 (per package)..... Before I'm accused of hoarding, if the MPOX threat fails ( some people are finally starting to see the light) at least I have my early Christmas shopping completed. I'm a practical gift giver. Who doesn't need TP?