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The insistence, as the death-rate mounts, that the COVID-19 pandemic is a hoax.
The hysteria was ridiculous, as every right-thinking person knew. The so-called 'coronavirus' was just the ordinary flu, had so far killed a tiny handful of people and was exaggerated in a liberal attempt at impeachment part 2. Anyone who called his truth-telling Covocaust Denial was a sore loser. Ask Rush.
Clear-sighted, realistically unafraid. A condition which must exist in order for the state of being para-noid to exist.
The only one at the party who had declined the marijuana, he did not have the munchies, did not find every utterance, no matter how inane, hysterically funny, was more than ready to drive anyone and everyone home if need be, and he was suffering no delusions; absolutely no one was out to get him. While his friends' behavior was paranoid, his was, in a word - noid.
Clear-sighted, realistically unafraid. A condition which must necessarily exist in order for the condition of being para-noid to exist.
The only one at the party who had declined the marijuana, he did not have the munchies, did not find every utterance, no matter how inane, hysterically funny, he was more than ready to drive anyone and everyone home if need be, and he was suffering no delusions; absolutely no one was out to get him. While his friends may be paranoid, he was, in a word - noid.
The emptiness felt when real experience is replaced by virtual experience.
Another day of phone and computer, without human touch or eye contact, and she felt an aching virtual vacuum.
A long-time tactic employed in police interrogation, to force a suspect to drop his guard and open up. Now, a duality threatening the fabric of American social justice.
Standing in a line of peaceful protestors seeking acknowledgment of racial injustice, unsure as to whether the well-armed men before him would protect him or attack him, he saw clearly - the good cop bad cop routine had taken to the streets.
A song stuck in your head, on auto-repeat since 1966.
Having blown their cash on a then-state-of-the-art sound system for the band truck, the guys only had enough to buy one tape. For the last five decades, Martha and the Vandellas had been singing endlessly in his head - "It's like a heatwave, burnin' in my hea-a-art, can't keep from a-cry-in', tearin' me apa-a-art", his personal 8 track tapeworm.
'died and went to heaven', an acronym for the state of happiness beyond words.
Looking at her across the table, staring into her phone as she'd done all through dinner, the joy he felt in being with her on their first date was inexpressible. He texted 'dawth' to her, heard the thrilling 'ping' and thought she might look up and meet his eyes, but... whatever.