Heroes, Shmeroes

It’s amazing how easily constant repetition conditions our herd (aka society) to accept whatever narrative the puppet masters of this planet decide to be “truth.” The media dictates that if someone wears a badge, stethoscope, or elongated hard-hat, they should forever be lauded as “heroes,” no questions asked. I’m not exactly sure what’s “above-and-beyond” about handing out a thousand-dollar fine to someone sitting on the beach reading a book, or why hiding in an unmarked pick-up truck on the side of the road to hand out speeding tickets is superhuman, but I guess I’ve always been a little confused about what society deems to be normal.

Some humans have greater tendencies toward philanthropy and selfless giving than others, and younglings or idealists will always feel drawn to certain Mother-Theresa-style vocations. But it’s time for a basic reality check when it comes to the majority percentage of people who work “frontline” jobs:

At the end of the day, they’re in it for a paycheque.

Now don’t go flying off the handle because I said that. It’s not meant to be a cynical slight to anyone who loves their job, or chooses a life-focus that services the greater good of humanity. But if you knew the underlying motivations most wannabe doctors, dentists, or cops had before going to “school,” you’d realize that status, wealth, recognition, and power over others are far more influential career goals than philanthropic satisfaction.

Sure, that paragraph will piss off a lot of people too, but let me put it this way: volunteer firefighters impress me a helluva lot more than the ones paid full-time to play bridge 5 days a week, waiting for an alarm to ring. Doctors living in tents, treating bacterial infections in kids who have no access to clean water, inspire me far more than a douchebag prescribing shit from Big Pharma because they have their sights on a new Mercedes. And I’ll never be impressed by anyone wearing a badge who responds to a rational plea with “I’m just following orders.” Insert Nazi-reference emoticon here.

If you want to display signs, banners, slogans, and bumper stickers, or add endless soundbites on the telescreen praising our “frontline workers,” then please allow me the indulgence of adding a few people to this list — the unsung heroes plugging away, day in, day out, without gratitude or recognition:

1. My Brother.
Do you really think the shit you dump on the curb at 9 PM every Wednesday magically transforms into fairy dust while you binge-watch Game of Thrones till 4 in the morning? Sorry, chief, ain’t how that works. Sanitation workers are awake and slugging away before most marines even have a chance to hit snooze on their government-approved alarm clocks. While many government employees sit at home, fully compensated (our “leaders,” for example, who don’t attend their appointed meetings at city hall due to “safety concerns”), the guy who picks up your never-ending stream of DVD wrappers, pizza boxes, and shit bought compulsively from Amazon hasn’t been given “danger pay,” or even the hint of a raise to motivate wandering into the trenches to haul away your disease-riddled filth. If you want to show support to a true frontline worker, instead of complaining once a week about the noise a large machine makes to haul away the waste you produce, get your ass out of bed early, put on your faux terry cloth bathrobe and Chinese-made fuzzy slippers, and go give your garbageman a big ol’ handjob. True heroes.

2. The Bubbly Girl at the Pizza Store.
Not sure why a student should get paid less than the approved “minimum wage” dictated by the government, considering they do far more shit-work than people who are over 18 or in managerial positions, so I want to send a shout-out to the kid who opened the barricaded front door at Domino’s last week. When I showed up to pick up a pizza my mother ordered, the girl readily responded to my rapping on the glass, and enthusiastically handed me a box of salt-laden cheese and gluten that was ordered on-line a mere 12-minutes earlier. No, she’ll never qualify for a $2,000 a month handout like other “adults” who have been forbidden to toil, but, to me, she’s a far greater inspiration than Constable Jerkoff — the guy who considers “serving and protecting” to be parking his vehicle beside his cop buddy at Value Village, reminiscing over who smoked the most joints during their last 5 days off. You rock girl, keep it up.

3. The Dude Filling Potholes.
Yup, that’s the guy you’ll sometimes see standing precariously on the side of the road while 18-wheelers pass by at breakneck speeds. Aside from a fancy new face-mask, he receives no additional incentive to continue wandering the plague-filled outdoors, because he is “essential,” you know, like a liquor store employee. And who really cares about him anyway? It’s his fucking job! No matter how much preaching you constantly inundate others with to stay home and be safe, half-price bacon in St. Thomas ain’t gonna buy itself! Roadways need to be maintained because you may have a sudden urge to violate quarantine to procure meaningless crap. Yeah, Maybe Joe Hardhat never had to stick a catheter into anyone over 80, but he’s got my fucking vote for hero of the day. Nice work, Joe.

4. The Lady at the Health Store.
You fucking rock. Not only did you not hire an unnecessary employee to wait in your vestibule to make sure humans only entered the store one at a time, I proudly noticed you didn’t feel the ridiculous need to add one-way stickers on your aisle floors, nor the absurd social-distancing markings that are pasted everywhere, both indoors and out — you know, the ones that keep our cattle in check when they want to line up at the trough for feed? If you had a cape, I could have easily mistaken you for Wonder Woman. A true hero. The dandelion tea rocked, too.

5. Cashiers.
Although most of the ones I come across are riding a fine-line of insane paranoia with the gloves, masks, face-shields and toxic sanitizer sprays, I choose to assume the bulk of them have been painted into that corner by the idiotic corporate heads trying to outdo one another with “safety” protocols. These frontline workers are probably told shit like “You either dress like the bubonic plague is upon us, enforce the rules, or go home without pay.” I can totally see that shit going down. So instead of ragging on you for wearing your medically-endorsed, anti-saliva face-shield that won’t do fuck all to prevent airborne infection, I salute the fact that you deal with more humans on a daily basis than the “heroic” chick locked in her bulletproof booth at the emergency ward. Kudos to you, despite refusing my coupon for half-price sockeye.

6. Cabbies.
Although I love walking, and rarely use your reliable convenience, I still want to send a big thumbs up your way. Despite being shunned as a pariah service by the media, the people on welfare who rely on you to pick up chicken wieners and whiskey will forever be in your debt, despite them acting as if you carry the black plague, while stiffing you on the 2 dollar tip you desperately need to pay rent. Fuck those assholes, I love you. Hero!!

Although this list needs another hundred additions, it’s probably time you got back to watching the latest episode of Westworld. I know that’s where I’m going next. But if you realized for a moment while reading this that appreciation goes beyond only acknowledging the glorified “elite” of frontline workers, then maybe, just maybe, we’ll stop throwing gas on the blazing inferno of media manipulated propaganda, and realize we don’t need overlords to dictate who’s special, how to act or treat one another, or where gratitude should be directed.

We need to reconnect with a forgotten basic that has kept our species alive and thriving all these millennia: We are social animals. Physical contact, gatherings, and wild interactions are the things that ultimately bring out the best in us. Staying 6 feet away from your family and friends will only serve one purpose — the slow destruction of humanity. If you want to unquestioningly give in to a fraudulent medical dictatorship for the next year or more, that’s your call. But you might find life a little more pleasant by ditching your plastic gloves and hand-sanitizer, and hugging a fellow human once again. You might even realize not a single fucking person around you is actually sick.


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