Most antivaxxers, at least the male ones, who, as is usual in nature, tend to be the more flamboyant, like to display themselves with firearms, threaten government officials, or drive to DC with a carload of explosives, don’t strike us regular Americans as fraidy-cats. Batshit loonies who could really, really benefit from a daily Seroquel, yes, but physical cowards, no.
You wouldn’t for example, call Christopher Key, self-proclaimed chief of the Vaccine Police, a chickenshit, mostly because he is usually photographed with multiple automatic weapons and a flamethrower. Christopher just the other day announced plans to arrest the governor of Louisiana, but he’s postponed that so he could go on a nationwide tour to threaten government officials and other people he regards as equally dangerous, like Walmart pharmacists.
Key claims that the virus is a bioweapon, which is typical of an antivaxxer, although there are a vast and florid garden of claims tended by antivaxxers that offer other explanations for the danger of vaccination. It’s microchipped, say some. It messes with your DNA, or your RNA say others, and by others, I mean people who don’t know any more about microchips, DNA or RNA than they do about traditional Kurdish folk songs.
A young woman I met at a beer joint the other day (all right, she was the beer-tender) said her boyfriend, who is in the American armed forces, said he was going to refuse the shot because it was just a way for the government to control his life. He got the shot after she told him, “Honey, you’re a US Marine. How could the government possibly control your life any more than it already does?”
So, some of them can be reasoned with. Others not, and I think we need to consider the possibility that those people are just afraid of needles. Trypanophobia is a real thing, and while a woman suffering from an irrational fear of needles will simply tell you, “I don’t like needles and don’t put one in me,” a man cannot admit to anything so unmanly. A man will say “Mind-controlling bioweapon that will turn my sperm into dead curlicues that I might shed on my kids every other weekend when I see them. Let's go Brandon!”
Just to get out of a jab in the arm. Pussies is the preferred term for what they are. Let’s start calling them that, and watch them line up.