Everyone’s getting along. No, you shut your bitch mouth. Has your patience felt a bit taxed in this most delightful of years? Reanimated Gandhi would be snapping at bank clerks. Lucky corpses should feel gratified by how many envy them.

It’s not like those who get to leave graveyards have been accelerating to the fullest. The particularly pleasant span of torture we call 2020 has been a waste of life. Humans are existing rather than thriving. And we’re barely able to do even that, what with not getting to work in order to acquire currency for goods and services.

If we learned lessons from pain, we could avoid getting hurt again. Naturally, that won’t happen. Let’s check the pan for doneness with our fingers, as that’s the only way to determine temperature.

This year should’ve highlighted how people are able to thrive without supervision through judgment. Instead, we’re told to be glad someone in power who trusts science deems art galleries nonessential. If you’re so upset about losing a way to obtain food and a roof, you should’ve worked in a field a lawyer governor deemed essential for life.

The longterm consequences of trying to beat a virus that would’ve died off won’t end on December 31 when there’s a weak reason to be blitzed. Turning kids into weirdos via isolation is as promising for the future as is parents not being able to buy them things since work was banned.

A scientific experiment that shouldn’t be conducted on little humans has been the worst part of using living rooms as classrooms. Join the drugged-out jobless staggering through empty commercial districts with vague zombie memories of sitting at tables while paying others to bring food.

Control over every life aspect certainly works as well in stopping illness as it does for basic interactions. Taking away joys to make us more appreciative when they’re returned. The fact they’re only partially back is supposed to create even more thankfulness, so remember to pray to your state’s executive lest you want to lose cinema privileges again.

Coincidences are not conspiracies. Utter domination just happens to be the liberal dream. It’s uncanny how pushy office-fillers seized an opportunity to tell others what they can’t do. The worst part for our dungeon masters is pretending to not enjoy it. The reflex among those who prefer bossing found an outlet. Thank the benevolent saints who kindly rule China for uniting us.

Politicians unilaterally shutting down society in a fruitless attempt to outrun a virus with a survival rate this high for the otherwise healthy may not be as scientific as portrayed. Preening about following experiment results is particularly appalling for those who narced to the Grim Reaper where nursing home residents were hiding. Psychopaths may not be modest, according to the most recently-available research.

Sit home encased in plastic wrap and spend ample free hours thinking how grateful you should be for having governors who care about you enough to enforce protection by edict. Opportunities removed are for our own good, just like every other infiltration into liberty. You couldn’t just wash hands while keeping Grandma in the guest bedroom.

Time frittered not working or interacting is best served pondering how racist we are. Sure, most police officers might not be sadistically seeking taillight violations in order to find minorities to gun down without consequence. But then we wouldn’t think America is fundamentally unjust, and a lack of anger is bad for the resentment business. It’s the only one thriving.

Individual cases are now used to make blanket judgments, which by pure chance is how the prejudiced think. It’s possible to be horrified by particular incidents without proclaiming they’re what always happens if anyone would like to try. Good luck explaining how the circumstances of any case might not confirm racists pursued careers with badges so they can hunt any humans darker than 1991 Michael Jackson for sport.

Entirely reasonable people forced to treat trauma as policy supremacy, either out of the notion that life is planned to be flaming garbage by a wholly benevolent superficial being or as a practical coping mechanism. Learn just what we value by having it confiscated. Now, that’s enough of a tutorial. We don’t need any more absences to remind us why life is precious.

Hysteria will always be popular within our dreadfully dimwitted brand of upright creatures. An allegedly rational species craves the daily virus-stomping technique rumor. These are modern times only literally.

Just because this is as far as humans have gotten doesn’t mean the group as a whole deserves to pass. People motivated by panic claiming to be scientific are particularly skilled at making others joyous. There’s quite a bit of overlap with ingrates calling the country whose freedoms they exploit an oppressive hellhole.

Cherish delightful memories of our era while they’re here, like how not crossing the street when another walker approaches from the opposite direction means you want them to get sick while you’re racist if the fellow pedestrian is black. Please make up your mind which hate crime you prefer committing.

A year in conflict and anger isn’t about to end just because of a number change, so cheer up. The next one will be better because we want it to be so, and that’s how calendars work. Humans won’t be getting a year smarter, which makes improvement challenging. We forgot to accumulate knowledge. Grief is easier to compile.

Grievances are the standard. Everyone’s content, right? We just want things to go back to normal. Meanwhile, people will announce everything sucks five minutes later. Everyone’s tired of countless traumatic examples from which to learn.

Cranky as a lifestyle choice.