Saving Fauci’s Life?

There’s a disturbing dynamic that occurs on every Manhattan street corner — virtually every minute of every day. By simply watching the typical New York City pedestrian as they reach the corner at a red light, you get a pretty good idea of what it’s like to deal with an overcrowded, rancorous metropolitan area on a daily basis. No one waits on the sidewalk.

Even if a thousand cars are racing by, practically every single New Yorker insists on stepping a few steps out into the street while waiting for the light to change. They’ll even go as far as squeezing themselves past other impatient street-crossers just to get to the front of the pack.

We are so hyped up, so overstressed, and so programmed to do everything quickly that we can’t even endure waiting 30 seconds for a traffic light. We’ll risk death by stepping off the curb in order to get a head start when the light turns green.

With this in mind, here’s a little thought experiment: Let’s say I’m on such a corner as a pedestrian pushes past me — too harried to realize that he is stepping directly into the path of an oncoming SUV. I reach out, grab ahold of his jacket, and yank his back to safety…only to realize it was none other than former NIAID director, Anthony Fauci.

How might that make me feel?

Reflexively, I’d likely be relieved and gratified to have saved a fellow earthling’s life. But what if that earthling is responsible, in part, for an incalculable number of deaths (with no end in sight)?

What if I would’ve known in advance it was Fauci whose life was in danger? Would I have acted to save him?

Sure, it’s so easy to publicly and hypothetically virtue signal and brag about how I would never help such a pernicious beast and would celebrate his demise.

In the heat of the moment, however, I’m aware that something very human in me might kick in to challenge the black-and-white of it all.

Dr. Fauci, in my estimation, has been a terrible, destructive force for decades — part of the much larger culture of relentless destruction. Saving his life (or the life of any other major political/corporate player) is, by definition, dooming countless others to more misery and death.

Meanwhile, if I didn’t react swiftly to pull Fauci to safety, surely his passing would cause sadness. Friends and family would mourn. People close to him would understandably be devastated and heartbroken.

However, Fauci’s efforts have spread global sorrow and mourning on a far greater scale. Has he, I wonder, ever considered the myriad of family and friends whose lives have been shattered thanks to his handiwork?

Also, of course, we can’t forget: he’s replaceable. There’s always another commissar ready to step in and keep the murderous machine running…with or without Fauci. Hence, those most victimized by this soulless structure would theoretically not even notice the change.

So, I return to the earlier question: If you knew in advance it was Dr. Anthony Fauci whose life was in danger on that NYC street corner, would you reach out— on purely instinctual, human-to-human terms — to save him?

Mickey Z. is the creator of a podcast called Post-Woke. You can subscribe here. He is also the founder of Helping Homeless Women - NYC, offering direct relief to women on New York City streets. Spread the word. Read other articles by Mickey.