Covering Up

Marion the curate has already begun wearing a face-mask almost everywhere, and with the government's decision to make face-coverings mandatory in shops I expect churches to follow suit - there isn't much clear difference between the arrangements of a church and those of a supermarket, except that churches tend to have higher, pointy roofs. In anticipation, I think my existing black mask is a bit threatening for church use so I am producing a white one, as you can see. Early on in the epidemic I was most impressed by the co-ordinated fuschia ensemble the Ms Caputova, the President of Slovakia, managed to put together. Perhaps she has a presidential sewing machine.

I know the wearing of a mask is practical and rational. For ages I've been unable to fathom out the controversy when it seems patently obvious that having a barrier of any kind at all in front of your mouth and nose has to help reduce the spread of infection. But it doesn't make me feel safer. Exactly the opposite: the sight of other people wearing masks induces in me sensations of anxiety and threat. By doing so we externalise and make very apparent our fear of a hidden vector of death swirling around us - when such things are always, always present. This isn't an argument, it's just a feeling, and no more validity than any feeling does.