I drove into town today. The streets are ghosts of mist. Lonely chimeras. Kingdoms. Provinces. It was slippery but my nobby tread worked wonders. I can’t wear the medical mask when I am on the road. I’ve done it for over two years. But today was cold rain so the helmet shield fogs up which it never does – it’s the mask. I am PRO mask. I love the mask. I wear one in public. Again. But driving with two masks is like having cataracts. I’ve been doing it because readers at the New York Times are screaming at me that they cannot see my medical mask under the motorcycle helmet. They’re scanning my photography and videos. I’m scum who broke the rules again. You cannot see beyond the face shield. That was the point. With a thin reflective veneer, light bounces off the thing. Rendering facial recognition AI mute as the sands of Egypt that move, too. Not unlike the Corpse Roach who makes it in to feast upon us. You have defeated communism. We communists are recalcitrant cold upon ambition, no world transformed than figs. Stir and blur your dirt bike bones to bring bad news to Princes and their ruins.