A philosopher sits in a jail cell and pontificates at his cell mate.

Philosopher: The concept of herd immunity is ridiculous and reveals the weakness in our public health. I mean, there is no such thing as herd immunity; there is individual immunity, yes, and, by extension, groups are immune, but it is the individual’s immune system that is immune or not immune. One-by-one. And, what are we, one-by-one, doing with our immune systems? Does, for example, Coca-Cola raise or lower one’s immune system? Does anyone care? Are we drinking less Coca-Cola in light of the COVID-19 pandemic? Or improving our individual public health? Oh, no, no; rather, oh thank god, we have a miracle drug so we can continue drinking Coca-Cola and our stock portfolio performs this quarter. Hush, hush, I don’t care that there are more Coca-Cola bottles in the ocean than fish in the sea. That’s progress for you; you want to make an omelet, you break the eggs. In our case, the eggs broken are ALL OF BIOLOGIC LIFE ON PLANET EARTH, haha. And, among all this destruction for a profit, we talk about individual immunity? Most humans are asymptomatic with the COVID-19 virus, so most of us are already immune; the biologic life we are destroying has already immunized us. The genius of millions of years of evolution has already produced an exquisite immune reaction; why tinker with it? Oh, wait, I know: there’s that darn stock portfolio again! Pharmaceuticals are performing very well this quarter, very well indeed. Doth pride cometh before the fall? No, no; verily I say unto you that the well-performing stock portfolio will cometh before the fall. The fall will be the fall of the West. We are cultivating our own destruction with every step we take; every ambitious, greedy action we weaken, enslave, and imbalance ourselves. And nature will balance herself again; oh, yes, she will. I give the West three generations from today before she crumbles, implodes, from internal weakness—

The philosopher’s cell mate moves a hand to his ear and removes an ear bud.

Cell mate: Are you talking to me?

Philosopher: Yes, I thought I was.

Cell mate: Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were on the phone.

Philosopher: I’m not.

Cell mate: I’ve been listening to music this whole time, haha!

Philosopher: Two generations; hell, maybe tomorrow.

Cell mate: Tomorrow? I was hoping today! I don’t want to spend another night in jail!

Philosopher: You are concerned about spending a night in jail as Western society crumbles around you?

Cell mate: Do you like sharing a toilet? And the food, come on.

The philosopher rubs his face in his hands.

Cell mate: I’m sure the rats don’t even like it.

The end.