Once upon a time, lungs look like the first one…now. not so much./Image: Licensed Adobe stock, chagpg.
Ahoy, right-wing travel aficionados!
T’is I–no, not a pirate from ye olden days, despite my use olde tymey language use just then. Well, I’m sort of a pirate, but one of the American political process, like all contempo right-wingers. We’ve hijacked this boat and we’re takin’ it for a ride…well, who knows where! We just wanted to be in charge, maties.
But this week I write not about any sea-faring mischief. We’re going to go over the basics of a Pulmonary Problems Picnic in honor of our President Trump’s loosening of emissions standards–effectively putting the entire Earth’s in a choke hold of smog, CO2, and deadly particulates–in celebration, of the coming environmental apocalypse that the Trump Admin’s ushering in, and in commemoration of the time when we all didn’t have lung cancer. We’re going to soon. All of us. Lung cancer. And then we’ll all slowly suffocate to death, but as long as corporations–like the big auto companies and oil conglomerates can breathe a sigh of relief, who the eff cares about actual people! That’s what we’ve decided to do, and to switch course would be to admit we’re wrong. and that isn’t something we’re willing to do. Even if it means poor lung health, which is horrific. Protecting our massive, fragile, right-wing egos is so very much more important than anything else. Including pulmonary health. So we asked a right-wing doctor, Dr. Tuber Culosis, to give us some tips on going on a Pulmonary Problems Picnic. A fun day trip that’s going to be horrible also, but remember: we must kill the Earth in the advancement of the right-wing project. Here’s your president’s plan to relax emissions standards on cars that will hasten both the apocalypse and lung disease, as reported by Coral Davenport of The New York Times.
Masks of Comedy and Tragedy
And perhaps tragicomedy too! You know, because we’re all going to die of COPD, and that’s funny. Now, let’s get this picnic-based party started! Toss some goodies casually into a fun picnic basket or carefully pack them in one. Either way–we’re eatin’ out-of-doors. It’s going to be slighty complicated with a surgical mask covering your face, but that hot accessory’ll be necessary because the air’s going to be filled with crap.
Old Ironsides
That’s the nickname of the USS Constitution, a naval vessel so important to U.S. history. And we’re the human race will soon be history, because we only have one home, one that’s dying. Who can think of a more fun inspiration for an outdoor meal?
Old Ironsides may be a nickname many of us want to consider for the Iron Lungs we’ll be surviving on when our flesh-based ones threaten to give out. The Iron Lung is a ventilator that keeps your lungs working when they want to give out, and it’s pretty much extinct in terms of use in medicine, what with those fancy and fun ventilators we have now. The new ones make you feel like you’re being choked, yet kept alive, too. Most of the people who’d know what a joyous experience being encased in the horrific torture devices known as Iron Lungs was are dead by now. These fantabulous contraptions–ones that are fetching to behold in addition to don–just may have a second life if we play our cards right, like “wearing” them to a light, fun summer picnic.
Deep Breath In
So said every f—–g annoying gym class teacher ever. If ya’ can’t do this because ground-level ozone–i.e., smog–is making it oh-so-difficult while you attempt to enjoy a bucolic meal full of your colic-y adult-cough, then bring an inhaler with you. Not many people can afford these overpriced pieces of crap full of gaseous crap, because pharmaceuticals are insanely expensive and Trump wants to make it more difficult to pay for them, but you can figure that out on your own. If you can self-make your white dude ass to wealth (let’s keep believing that one), then you can just snap your fingers and afford meds too! So take this with you on your open-air yum-yum time trip.
Arsenic and Old Lace
That’s a play. Old laced is also a beautiful choice for a handkerchief you may want to carry with you when you go to on your egress lunch date. You’ll need one when your wretching mucus, blood, and other inner-body loveliness due to the pulmonary probz you got from car exhaust all around you.
Stat
As in, Medicalese for, “Hurry up!” You may hear this called out when someone needs to perform an emergency tracheostomy on you. That should be not only easy but super-fun when you’re eating and suddenly collapse because you can’t breathe. No worries. Hopefully, someone who knows how to slice open your trachea and fix what ails you will be nearby. And to make that very usual suspect’s job easier, bring along one of those serial-killer-looking utility blades!
Cough, cough! That was–excuse me, hack, hack–oh, goodness, excuse me while I expectorate this huge chunk of phlegm, filled with black soot from all the cars with lower emissions standards pumping poison into the air around me…around us all. Hoigkgghgh! Ok, that’s better. Anyway, as I was saying before I also produced blood due to the esophageal varices my constant coughing from pollution-related sicknesses got in the way, this picnic will be loads of fun! Let’s face it: it’ll probably be our last such outing, because soon none of us will have the lung capacity even to go on day trips in the out of doors. That leaves more time for researching the latest idiotic Alt-conspiriactheorieson our laptops though, so it’s all good. By “good,” I really mean “awful,” because it’s not fun to be sick all the time and then die because your cardiovascular system just gave out. But, so it must be. We conservatives have decided to give ourselves and everyone else in the U.S. of A. over to the Trump Admin. And those in it care for nothing but corporations So, excuse me while I get to my pulmonologist appointment. He took a sample of the crap I cough up every day. He said I need to come into the office to talk about the results. That can be OK…right?
As we deplane, dock our ships in port, park our cars, or however we return from whence we came, please—oh please make sure to say as bourgeois and banal as possible despite getting out into the world. That’s the Alt-thing to do, after all!
Also: Preschool appropriate practices to increase the Alt-right’s bratty baby wellness!
Bon voyage!
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