No-fun Fauci steals Charlie Baker’s Super Bowl thunder
Gov. Charlie Baker must be losing it — on Wednesday he let St. Anthony Fauci beat him to the punch by hours in trying to scare “folks” out of having Super Bowl parties Sunday.
Gov. Charlie Baker must be losing it — on Wednesday he let St. Anthony Fauci beat him to the punch by hours in trying to scare “folks” out of having Super Bowl parties Sunday.
“Every time we have something like this,” Fauci thundered to the true believers on the Democrat morning shows, “there is always a spike.”
By the time Charlie Parker — as Joe Biden calls him — went out to administer his daily rites of panic porn, Fauci owned the headlines: “Lay low and cool it.”
Parker seemed off his game, for once almost apologetic about his hysterical fear-mongering.
But you can understand his panic fatigue. The whole purpose of this year-long grift was to get rid of Trump, and now he’s gone. How do you keep your game face on once the time on the clock has expired?
“If you’re gonna be with anybody else,” Tall Deval sighed, “I know this sounds a little ridiculous but you should probably try to keep your distance.”
A little ridiculous? That’s the understatement of the month.
“You should probably wear a mask and you certainly shouldn’t share food or drink with those folks because that’s just asking for trouble.”
“Probably” wear a mask? Probably? Have you forgotten, Charlie, that this is a religion, your religion. The Cult of the Mask. And you are backslidin’!
But these things happen as religions evolve. Not all disciples make the cut. Heresies erupt. Schisms occur — in early Christianity, it was the Arians. In Islam, the Shiites. In the Cult of Mask, some blasphemers now genuflect before “the mutant” or “the variant.”
Here in Maskachusetts, some brethren grumble that the sacrament — the vaccine — is insufficiently available, and without the sacrament, there can be no salvation.
Like the Good Shepherd, Pope Parker acknowledges his shortcomings to a restive flock.
“Look, I’m not happy with where we are. I know a lot of other people aren’t either. We have work to do and we know that. But one of the best things a good manager does is recognize and understand that they have a problem and then bust their butt to try to figure it out.”
Did Charlie really just say he’s a “good manager?”
“I get how unhappy many people are with the rollout, okay? … I hear it. … Um, there are some reasons for that unhappiness that have to do with the decisions we made out of the gate, which I do not apologize for.”
You’ve heard of papal infallibility? This is called Parker infallibility.
“We know the sign-up process for vaccinations has been frustrating. Uh, we’re working to make improvements with respect to that. We updated the website this week.”
The website? Charlie, the Karens who’ve been lapping up your dopey dogma for a year now don’t want no stinkin’ website upgrades. They want lockdowns, curfews, fines and jail for the infidel deniers. They want fire and brimstone, that old-time religion.
More snitch lines!
At Thanksgiving, when he was still grappling with the Devil — Donald J. Trump — Charlie dispatched his disciples to the state’s supermarkets to make sure nobody was buying large turkeys.
And then he bragged about it during one of his revival meetings, I mean press conferences.
As the Super Bowl approached this week, the congregation expected a similar Great Awakening — a complete crackdown on fun. A seven-day waiting period for guacamole, an outright ban on chicken wings etc. The Karens wanted corn chips for dipping to be as difficult to obtain in Maskachusetts as menthol cigarettes.
Instead, all Charlie gave them in their pews was thin gruel about “risky behavior.”
Now the Karens are confused. Is the fun almost over? After listening to Charlie’s mushy whimpering Wednesday night, one of my listeners texted me:
“I’m perplexed. Is it more hazardous to my health to have a cocktail at a Super Bowl party or to throw a Molotov cocktail at a police cruiser on Tremont Street?”
Charlie knows, or once knew: The former is a super spreader, the latter is a peaceful protest.
As the vaccination rollout disaster continues, the flock begins asking inconvenient questions: Would Granny have been vaccinated already if Charlie hadn’t wasted countless hours futilely lobbying state GOP committee members to oust Jim Lyons as party chairman?
Why did Charlie seem less concerned about keeping Gramps alive in the nursing home than with jacking up the state gas tax by 38 cents per gallon without legislative or popular approval?
When such questions began being asked in Europe in the 17th century, it led to the Thirty Years War. Fortunately, we have another election in 21 months.