"Killing the messenger" sentiment can be traced back to Plutarch's Life of Lucullus (Dryden translation):
"The first messenger, that gave notice of Lucullus' coming was so far from pleasing Tigranes that, he had his head cut off for his pains; and no man dared to bring further information. Without any intelligence at all, Tigranes sat while war was already blazing around him, giving ear only to those who flattered him."
Note the amazing parallel to our modern situation.
The nonsensical nature of the attitude was already well known in the American west, where signs were reportedly posted in saloons advising patrons "Do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best."
This event yesterday goes beyond ridiculous and beyond humorous; it reverberates with mindless ignorance and insensitivity. I currently have two members of my extended family sick as a result of coronavirus. One, a retail store employee, is febrile and weak at home in bed; her husband, a public service professional, is hospitalized on oxygen receiving triple interventions but fortunately not intubated.
For me and for literally tens of thousands of families across the United States to hear this kind of chant at a Trump rally - enabled and encouraged and played for laughs by the flaming asshole at the podium - is indescribable even for an English major.
I know it's immoral for me to wish that the maskless fuckheads in those bleachers spread the virus among themselves and become Darwin Award candidates, but I can't help doing so.
And it all comes down to that coronavirus-denying self-centered bastard supporting and spreading the denial for crass political motives and self-aggrandizement.
Maybe I'll write some more later after I calm down. Comments closed.
