a weird poem-ish, factoid, math related thought rabbit hole I fell down the other day …
This number varies by 1 or 2, or maybe 10. But for everyone this side of the pond, it’s just about right. A few months short of two years. Six hundred fifty five. Say it slowly, out loud. Like we say the names of the black babies. Men, women, and children, being murdered by police. Feel it deep, like we feel the anxiety, inescapable. Crisis mode activated, whether you like it, want it, need it, or not. See, I had to count back. Sometime after 60, or was it 100? I stopped. I had to lose track. It burned behind my eyes, each morning I woke up to the tallies of the dead. It was seared to my cornea, like the bright orange sun. Discolored by smoke, at 477 micrograms per cubic meter. What is two times ‘very unhealthy’? Cause it feels like the answer is ‘dead’. 10 million acres burning, unstoppable. The climate is climbing and even from our homes we can’t seem to slow it down. 1825. The number days, worst case scenario, we have before the changes to the climate become critical and irreversible. And sure, that’s worst case scenario. But I don’t look at the last 655 and see a people willing to work together to stop tragedy. To save A life, or two thousand four hundred ninety four lives. Two thousand four hundred ninety four dead yesterday. Yesterday we broke 270,000 new cases. An all time high in the last 655 days. 5.41 million dead worldwide, total. Divided by 655. Eight thousand two hundred fifty nine. 77% of deaths, the minimum percentage unvaccinated deaths make up here in the US. Its not quite a perfect jump. But if the trend continues roughly 6382 unvaccinated people will die tomorrow.
Coffee & Conundrums 