Well, I finally got Covid.
I haven’t gotten all the way through it, yet, but I’ve experienced enough of it that I think I have the basic idea and feel ready to write a review.
Covid is a totally slapdash, ill-conceived feature heap of an illness.
There is no cohesion to it. It is just a stupid, random sequence of torments.
“Let’s make his skin hurt. No, wait, how about body aches? Wait, wait, let’s make his ears ring. Throw some flaming headache in there. How about dulling his taste? Ok, let’s do that. But what about his guts? Shouldn’t we make things go horribly wrong there for at least an hour? Yeah, sure, why not? But don’t forget about exhaustion — he needs to be really, really tired. Let’s keep him tired. Oh crap. Almost forgot… Aren’t we known for being a respiratory condition? Don’t we need to make him cough, just to maintain brand consistency? Naw, make his nose run. And profuse sweat, how about that? And chills, probably. Yeah, chills. No wait, we’re sick of chills. Overheat him, now. Eh, I liked chills better. Add back the chills, and torque up the aches.”
Don’t get me wrong, Covid is doing a solid job of making me feel like total crap. But the disease experience is classic design-by-committee. There is no plan, no theme, no experience principles. Covid is just making it up as it goes along. It is an inelegant jumble of arbitrary miseries.
I hope this disease was produced by human beings in a lab, because if it wasn’t, nature totally jumped the shark on this one.
