You have probably heard the ancient Chinese curse; “May you live in interesting times”. The saying is intended as a wry comment on history. The events which interest us most are usually the ones we would least like to have personally endured. As it turns out, this “curse” is a fabrication. The closest existent phrase in Chinese literature dates back to 1627, and reads, “Truly, it is better to be a dog in days of peace than a human in times of war!” Imagine how terrible ancient Chinese wars must have been. We’re talking about a time in which dogs were routinely eaten. Imagine if the phrase were, “Truly, it is better to be a Chicken McNugget in days of peace than a human in times of war!”

I have been considering this phrase whilst in self-isolation. Although I am satisfied as a human being, it is a very good time to be a dog. Pets across the world are experiencing unprecedented levels of bliss. The average dog has more serotonin pumping through its brain than a 21 year old at an outdoor music festival. Their owners are home all day, they’re finally getting regular exercise, and best of all, pooping on strangers’ lawns is now kosher. Since nobody is going outside, it hardly seems to matter if there’s dog poo on the lawn.

I find it hard to reconcile my interest in history with the terror of living through it. On a micro level, we are all confused and scared by this pandemic. On a macro level, many of us remain utterly fascinated. My father called me last week to ask if my depression was getting worse in light of current events. Interestingly, it hasn’t. Depression is only considered clinical if you are depressed “for no good reason”. Right now, we all have ample reason to be depressed. Rather than raise myself to society’s level, society has lowered itself to mine. I have become an informal tour guide for the newly depressed. I will stock up on my pills before the newcomers raid the pharmacies.

It is gratifying to know that my mental illness has finally paid off. I have been grappling with existential dread for decades, and have lived through multiple (admittedly imaginary) near-death experiences. This pandemic is therefore no great upheaval. I already respond to benign events as if they are world-ending. It’s only fair that the opposite be true. I have worked up an intolerance to panic by treating it like snake venom, consuming a small dose every day.

David Rose, untitled selfie (2020)

Broadly speaking, this virus is intriguing. We can expect to see real, lasting changes to our society as a result of it. I have been keeping a list of predictions, some of which have already unfolded. I anticipated a precipitous drop in global carbon emissions, for example. Another prediction on my list: the mass sharing of nude images. With most of the population stuck at home, people are returning to old-fashioned sources of entertainment: books, board games, genitals. The internet will soon be flooded with a tsunami of nudity, and a fair number of people are going to find themselves the victims of revenge porn. This pandemic came from a meat market, and it has now created a meat market of another kind. I suggest being mindful of who you expose yourself to. (This advice will remain useful post-lockdown).

Thanks, coronavirus.

Coronavirus is not the only malady that will increase exponentially. Expect to see a sharp increase in the number of vegans. We should all be prepared for “I-told-you-so” comments from our vegan friends. They will have a point. If the world reduced its reliance on meat, we would be far less vulnerable to zoonotic diseases in the future. The choice to become vegan might not be ethical as much as practical. With job losses in the millions, we will all need to tighten our belts. A kilogram of chickpeas is far less expensive than a kilogram of beef. We will come to view meat like we do Tiffany at the local strip club. Exciting to look at, but expensive to take home and liable to pass its use-by date quite quickly.

Sociologists, too, must be thrilled by this pandemic. There are now billions of people with nothing to do but plug personal data into their phones, laptops, and vibrators. We are living inside Bentham’s Panopticon. The social science that will spring from this raw data is beyond scientists’ wildest dreams. For example, we will learn how many days a person can go unwashed before the health emergency inside the house trumps the one outside.

Of most interest to me is finding out how much disdain conservatives hold for the general population. The Guardian reported yesterday that two senior Republican figures, Mike Gula and John Thomas, have started a company that sells coronavirus testing kits “and other hard to find medical supplies”. When questioned about the company, Thomas replied, “In politics — especially if you’re at a high enough level — you are one phone call from anybody in the world”. Presumably he hasn’t thought to dial a therapist. I think that these men have taken the word “conserve” in “conservative” a little too literally. Conservatives are supposed to preserve the country for the people, not shield medical supplies from them. Some might say that “John Thomas” is living up to his name, but I disagree. I don’t think John Thomas is a dick. I think he’s a massive cunt.

In my opinion.

Conservatives now find themselves in a philosophical bind. Across the world, governments have begun to implement income packages resembling a Universal Basic Income. These schemes have arisen in the UK, Australia and, to a lesser degree, the United States. Most of these governments say that it is a temporary measure, but I doubt their ability to reset the clock. For decades, we have been told that raising unemployment benefits would be economic suicide. Now, with economies circling the drain, we are told that unemployment benefits must be raised in order to prevent economic collapse. Which is it? Are we taking cyanide pills, or MDMA? Conservative governments are performing a rhetorical magic trick: Watch my arguments disappear!

Scott Morrison says that welfare payments will revert back in six months. Perhaps he thinks that there will be another Prime Minister by then. Whoever is in charge, they are in for a tough fight. Once the population has had a taste of a liveable wage, clawing it back will be difficult. Imagine swapping out somebody’s breakfast cereal with sawdust mid-meal. This is the task that Scott Morrison has set himself.

One final prediction, by way of a suggestion. After this pandemic is over, hold off on returning to comedy clubs for a week or two. The comedians of the world will be very rusty, and their material will almost entirely comprise the previous months’ most retweeted jokes. If you do decide to attend, I suggest gathering some friends (digitally) and retweeting the jokes you like most. Then attend as a group and take bets on which jokes will appear. Nothing enlivens a comedy night more than somebody yelling “Bingo!” after a punchline.