Sure, things are bad. But they could always be worse, right? Like, say, the Black Death of 1347–50:
Everyone ran in panic from the sick. Neighbors shunned neighbors, relatives relatives. Children abandoned elderly parents and priests their flocks. Incredibly, “even fathers and mothers refused to nurse and assist their own children, as though they did not belong to them.” Some reacted by locking themselves up with a few friends in some comfortable place stocked with food and fine wines. They would entertain themselves with music and refuse to receive any news of the dead. Others, often those without the means to escape, became fatalistic and began looting the houses of the dead, stuffing themselves with food and drink, heedless of the risks of infection.
We’re not there. Yet. Plus, adorable goats! And Patrick Stewart reading Shakespeare sonnets! So yeah. It could be a lot worse.
