The People Pandemic

I was sitting in traffic this morning when the realization hit me. It’s world-wide. Sure, there are a few isolated safe zones scattered around the globe, but the pandemic is widespread throughout nearly every population center on Earth. Every single place on the globe where humans reside in close proximity is infected. It’s a pandemic and no one warned us about it.

People. Every major city on the planet is stuffed with them. They’re everywhere. Cluttering the stores, floating aimlessly like a smack of jellyfish (yes, that’s a real term), and sitting on the highway for no discernible reason, the place is infested with people.

Look, when you have one person, you have someone with a mixture of good ideas, creativity, skills, and “boneheadishness.” In the past, some thought that by grouping people together in large numbers, our combined ideas, creativity, and skills would overcome our shortcomings. Sadly, our boneheadery has grown exponentially. In some densely occupied cities, our collective stupidity has become self-aware. Don’t worry. It’s not the sort of inhuman sentience we have grown to fear from our machines. That will come later. This is instead a rather benign creature who calls himself, “Duh.”

You’ve probably met him and didn’t even realize it. He’s typically thought of as male because, well, we typically lack the gene responsible for the self-suppression of one’s natural boneheaditude. Anyway, you’ve probably passed him in the hall, held the elevator door for him, and even wondered how he got his car that high up in that tree. Duh frequently attends board meetings, holds numerous political offices, and spends his off hours starring in Fail videos. In larger organizations, his influence grows tremendously. I used to think that Duh was attempting to take over the world, but the real danger is far, far more insidious.

You see, Duh is not a bad guy. He can be pleasant, friendly, and well liked. He’ll wave to you as he backs into his garage door, smile as he signs that executive order in crayon, and call out, “Hey! Watch this!” as he ignites  the explosives mounted under his lawn chair. That’s not the problem. The real problem is people. When they get together, they get more Duh-like. I’m sorry to say that there is no cure.

As I sit in immovable traffic, I realize that the only solution is for everyone to go far, far away. Oh, sure, you might think that it’s rather selfish of me to want to have this three lane highway all to myself, and I admit you might be right. Still, the benefits seem highly attractive. The thought of no congestion, no lines, and no waiting sounds positively Utopian.

Of course, I might need for some of you to stick around. I need road construction people to keep my roads open. It’s not like I have the time, skills or expertise to fix the roads. I could probably make that stop sign, but that’s about it. Granted, it wouldn’t necessarily be the right shape or color, but I think I could get the “Stop” part right. I also need to have the grocery stores stocked. I don’t have the time to raise my own food, you know. Besides, I don’t know if pizza trees grow in this region. For that matter, I want to keep a few other specialists around. Doctors, mechanics, ISP techs, cable TV folks, public utilities, and anyone involved in the bacon industry needs to stick around. As I think about it, there may be a number of other folks I don’t know that I need who I might need at some point.

So, I’ll revise my statement. The only solution is for everyone to go far, far away until I need for you to come back. At that point, I expect for you all to be back where you belong, only not wherever I’m currently driving. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. The guy who just raced past me on the shoulder of the highway in an office chair strapped to a rocket thought it was a good idea.

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