What a let down.

The enemy. Two minutes hate will now commence.

I think I speak for a fair number of us when I say; what a fucking let down.
Why aren't all you fuckers dead yet? I haven't been nearly this disappointed since the summer of the shark failed to kill ANY of you worthless pukes spending your father's fortunes in Florida's fertile date-rape havens.

And now this.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Yeah, I'm taking about SARS, and it's pissing me the fuck off. Sure, it's a gen-x/y clich‚. We're waiting for our own. And we expect to get it. We've
had our share of shared culture defining moments, but what about our own plague? We all had high hopes for AIDS once it escaped the stigma of being merely GRIDS, or the even less acceptable 'gay-cancer', but hell, we've moved past that. Being the generous type, we decided we'd let Africa have that one. Ebola might have got us wet, but we demanded the real thing. There's no way some piece of shit from the 16th century is going to lord the Black Death over us.

No. Fucking. Way.

Influenza, 1918. Sure, it's impressive at first, but witness the number of health care providers. Why are they still standing?

Sadly, despite a promising start, our parents choked. The cold war fizzled out, and we were left alone, shivering in our bomb shelters, clutching our canned food, waiting for that goddamn nuclear holocaust we'd heard so much about. 'Tear down that wall?' Fuck that shit. Drop a bomb on that fucking wall and get the party started. What a bunch of fucking pussies.

But that was before we came into our own my brethren.

Once we hit the big time, we started to do things right. The human element left too much to chance, you could wait decades for the right nut case to drop a few bombs, and even then, some dip-shit might end up rebuilding it all any way. So what did we do? We turned, as we so often do, to our old friend disease. Given new our new found, and hard won, understanding of bacteria and human anti-bodies, we discovered that by proliferating anti-bacterial agents in the form of soap and handi-wipes, we could aid the advancement of bacterial species. Adaptations that might have taken a few bacterial elements centuries to perfect are now possible in the span of weeks, right on your own counter top, possibly even within your own flesh! Encouraging humans actually infected with possibly debilitating bacterial infections to abuse antibiotic drugs (most of them selfishly created by so-called humanists over the previous two centuries) was a further stroke of brilliance. In so doing, we could finally target only those species of bacteria with a real shot at glory.

Smallpox, getting things done right.

Now, over the past decade, the media has done its' valiant best to encourage us. The slightest hint that an infectious agent has sprung to life someplace around the globe is reported worldwide. We've all heard it before. Maybe it only proves my own gullibility, but a few months ago, I got a feeling. 'SARS', I said, 'I like the sound of that. I really think this could be the one.' Yeah, pathetic, I know, but hey, I'm an optimist by nature. Being an American, and priding myself on my patriotism, I'd always hoped that the real deal would be some sort of mutated bacteria. It'd be nice to know that we'd done our part. Not that it's ever stopped me from cheering on the outsider, and everyone relishes the return of an old favorite like the corona virus, but I gotta tell 'ya, SARS been letting me down big time.

Global infection rates have been pathetic. Sure, it slipped by Canada's closely scrutinized borders, but what under aged alcoholic hasn't managed the same feat a dozen times himself? Global death toll has been pathetically low. Well under even the lowest expectations of a rookie during the season's first quarter. Frankly, given half dozen clips of 7.62mm FMJ, a Springfield armory M1A1 and a reasonably busy pedestrian shopping center. I think I could do better.

And who's dying anyway? You guessed it. Once again, it's the weak, the old, the already so sick they might as well die anyway. How pathetic is that? Kill a few patients on immunosurpressant drugs, a couple of old farts with a year or two left in them, MAYBE, and you're an international crisis? FUCK. A NYC heat wave could clear that in a week given the chance. Quality of death has been a long-standing debate amongst plague-aficionados.

Another failure. Not one of those pictured has yet to become symptomatic.

But SARS has yet to live up to even pneumonia's pathetic performance. Oh? They cough? They sputter? Fuck that shit. No pustules equals no spectacle. If a plague is to merit our attention, it'd better damn well bring some bodily disfigurement with it. I don't mean to sound too negative about the whole affair. Like any rookie, SARS needs time to find it's footing. Given the chance, it might be ready to be a major player, but we're talking years here. And at this rate, I, for one, don't have that kind of time.

It's still early in the game, but this is one commentator telling you to bet carefully. SARS may be worthy of your time, but only if you're one of the most conservative and patient of players. For my part, I'm still hoping everyone reading this drops dead by next week, but you won't see me laying any money on it just yet. Anything you fucks can do to help will be appreciated.