On yet another day of yet another news report, the Karens and the Todd's are wiggling around, most of them are younger GenXers afraid of their shadow, casting their discomfort upon the rest of the world.
These, the ones who were Latchkey, envious of the awareness and freedom of their Boomer older siblings.
They became the parents of the Millennials, that self-absorbed generation of Tiffany's and Joey's who only understand what is flashed on that tiny screen they hold, never considering the impact of their actions as they appropriate what is not theirs to become TikTok Influencers with contracts while the ones they stole from created the content.
Oh for the comfort of the Karens.
We have watched over the pandemic how it has been the screeching screaming shrill voice of their discomfort that has made this deadly time even deadlier.
No one ever told them no.
Certainly not their parents.
I've seen it.
Whatever they want, they get, and if they are from the elite elite, they have a sun kissed or warm tan someone to fetch their every whim while Mummy sips mimosas and talks about how hard life is.
Then, something happened to connect everyone and everyone's everything was turned upside down and the Mummys with someone and the wannabe stroller legging wearing ones suddenly realized they did not have what almost four hundred years of KarenSallyAmyJane had - help.
Karen went in an uproar.
Tantrums in stores, even losing her sh*t literally in a store aisle. Others coughed, all unmasked, claiming oppression.
These germinfested creatures whose very heritage includes pandemics wiping out entire villages due to their filth, these same ones on full recorded displayed privilege spreading their germs everywhere.
Until it caught up with them.
Some became very ill.
All of them had their lives turned upside down and they faced the monster in the mirror.
The reflection was too much for their fragile soul.
They had no culture no depth of understanding or connecting with society, believing their greasy stringy hair and pale skin was enough to render them invincible.
For the comfort of the Karens.
Many many endured contamination on planes, in grocery stores, those vulnerable who had to work to provide were once essential and then called entitled, they paid the price.
AmySallySue was not satisfied.
Because it raged and raged and her little Bitty and Bobby were not invincible, little carriers of death they were, and it continued to spread faster than the speed of light.
So they ranted and yelled at schools and threatened with guns and waved signs claiming freedom to spread death everywhere.
And no one shut them up.
Oh the history of this country is replete with the comfort of the Karens and oh so many lives fallen for their selfish absorption of self.
They envied and tried to create fashion to immolate what they desired but it took a big tall pecan uncle auntie to remind them they weren't even that.
They tried to shut out the words and a red headed caramel took them to task on a day to celebrate a King and put his words back on their false claim of solidarity.
They claimed to be for all when only money appeased their purple maroon glasses so much they even stopped others from attending to the franchise.
Oh the KarenKristenKrissy's of them all.
So many thousands lost because the color of water is so dirty they can not see the emptiness of their soul.
And so for the comfort of them ponytail running ragged hoping BillyBob wants them again, they screech and threaten and are a nuisance in big rooms and big skies.
But who will really seek justice for the ones harmed for their feigned fainting falsehoods?
One day, we are waiting for the one day.
For further reading - especially for the Karens who don't want to be a Karen
The Trouble With White Women: A Counter History of Feminism by Kyla Schuller
Dear White Women: Let's Get (Un)Comfortable Talking About Racism by Sara Blanchard
How to be Anti Racist by Ibram X. Kendi
Shoutin' in the Fire: An American Epistle by Danté Stewart
They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in the American South by Stephanie E. Jones-Rogers
Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northrup
Wench by Dolen Perkins-Valdez
Karen at the school board
Karen at the grocery store