I’ve been sick for eight days now. I have come to the conclusion that I will be sick forever, and have taken to serenading the legion of virus that has successfully colonized by respiratory track. It might just be Stockholm syndrome, but I’ve realized that they really do want what’s best for me. So I welcome my new viral overlords, and hope that they can bring the enlightening flower of their infection to all of you soon.
This epiphany has also opened my eyes to the fact that most science fiction horror films are really propaganda against the common cold and flu, vicious hate film tearing down these most noble sicknesses. Let’s review the symptoms and explicate what they really mean.
Phlegm: your brain is melting. Literally. It’s flowing right out of your nose in greenish yellow chunks. Fun fact: if you gather together all that goop into a pile, sculpt it into a facsimile of a brain, and then run electric current through it? You’ll still be sick, but now it demonstrable has a mental component.
Sinus compression: your head is going to explode. You can let Mulder keep goading you to drive, but sooner or later you hit the Pacific and poof, it’s done and you go on to an afterlife of making blue meth.
Coughing: chestbursters are a gross exaggeration and hateful slur on the actual sorts of creatures that take up gestation in your lungs. They don’t burst out through your sternum, it just feels like they’re about to. In reality, they just climb up your throat and out your mouth when they’re ready to go off to college. Coughing fits are basically just the equivalent of contractions in the oral birth you’re about to give.
Gastro-intestinal issues: you didn’t think those alien rectal probes wouldn’t have side effects did you?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go die.