Apr. 25th, 2003

dotinthesky: (Default)
I received an email from my father. He is leaving Hong Kong, coming to England. I suspect he is trying to escape SARS. I know my father has illness phobia: he can’t stand being around people who are sick. When he gets sick, he is like a baby (aren’t all men?) And the radios are bleating rumours about Hong Kong being quarantined. If I knew London would be quarantined because of some mystery illness, I’d be on the first plane out of here. My father could have stayed in his apart-hotel, but I guess it got boring.

Every 30 seconds, a child in Africa dies of Malaria.

The media, once again, is trying to pull the wool over our eyes. Are they scared of SARS because it’s not as attached to poverty as Ebola and Malaria seem to be? Because for all we know, good respectable rich beautiful perfect citizens can contract it and die? The media doesn’t give a shit about the millions of people dying in poor countries because of poverty, because of diseases, but OH IT”S NOW IN HONG KONG, RICH ASIAN CAPITAL, AND IN TORONTO… UHHH… I GUESS IT CAN SPREAD TO ALL 1ST WORLD COUNTRIES.

Ok, I’m not angry with the victims. I feel for them, I would hate to be in that position. But I also hate how everything in our world is unbalanced, complete with ulterior motives that put forward only the anxieties and interest of a precious few. By reading the papers in England, or listening to the radio, you would think the next Black Plague was upon us.

Have they heard AIDS is making a comeback? Seems like having unprotected sex is fashionable again. UHHH… AIDS, YUCK… THAT ONLY HAPPENS TO QUEERS… NOT TO US DECENT MIDDLE CLASS, HARD WORKING, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE.
But if someone coughs in my face, maybe I should quarantine myself. Stock up on the pot noodles, tomato soups, bottled water.

1 out of 25 victims of SARS die. Most of them are elderly. It’s a scary figure. I hope it won’t affect myself, or any of you.
dotinthesky: (Default)
"We, as humans, are sea-creatures – liquid, eminently squishable. If you examine enough photos of gunshot wounds, there is one easy conclusion: the human body is not made of hard things like bone and tough things like muscle, it is made of fifty-five jellyfish, all piled on top of each other, waiting to meet a bullet and become overt. All human insides are longing to fulfil their jellyfish vocation and get into the open air."

- Corpsing, by Toby Litt

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Dot in the Sky

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