The imposition of the outdoor mask that we have decreed in our last pandemonic conclave has raised you up a bit, oh my little ones! Instead of making such fuss, you should be happy. We have sanctified your sins and in return you have given us your human prerogatives. We have imposed the mask on you so that you will remember that we are your masters, as in other previous phases of the plague we have maliciously forced you to confine yourself at home, to let your parents die unaccompanied in the morideros called residences or to make a fool of yourself, coming out to clap on the balconies. Those who love servitude must be periodically subjected to grotesque humiliations that remind them of their servile condition.
The imposition of
The outdoor mask, we well know, is a completely absurd and funny measure. But it serves to remind you of your condition as submissive beasts that, in exchange for our sanctifying their aberrations, obey the most capricious commands. It is so beautiful to see you turned into tragative morons who act irrationally! It is so exciting that you allow yourself to inoculate every six months the concoctions that little by little reduce your immune system to phosphatin! It is so moving that you crammed bars and restaurants exhibiting like trash that license to spread that we have made you believe that it is a passport that protects you! And it is so delicious to see you walking like souls in pain with the muzzle, breathing the effluvia of your stale saliva and eating your own regurgitated microbes!
But do not be alarmed, this situation will not last long. In fact, we have imposed the mask on you outdoors to divert your sheep attention, in such a way that any other treacherous imposition will seem, in comparison, a relief. Have you not observed that all the cockatoos and systemic parrots that we have distributed in the mass cretinization media have protested against the imposition? In a few days, as this systemic mob insists on its tantrum, we will withdraw or relax the measure, to make it appear that we have given up. But the truth is that we have used the imposition of the mask as a Hitchcockian macguffin or trompe l’oeil to distract the naive. In this way, we rehabilitate before their eyes the systemic mob of parrots and cockatoos at our service. And, at the same time, while you rant against the mask, we will normalize the semester puncture (or quarterly, or monthly, or whatever comes out of the tail and hooves), until we turn your bodies into pincushion; and we will not renew your passport or license to infect if you do not swallow with each new puncture. Did you think that we were going to sanctify your sins without killing your souls and your bodies in exchange? It is evident that you do not know well the Grand Inquisitor who loves you so much. Enjoy your Christmas-without-God-and-with-muzzle, my little ones.