【媒庫文選】今年本不該與2019年相似
This Year Was Not Supposed to Be Anything Like 2019
今年本不該與2019年相似
Thomas Curwen 托馬斯·柯溫
2020 was to be nothing like 2019， with its mosque attacks in New Zealand and a fire in Notre Dame， an investigation into the 2016 election and the futile calls for order. We turned the calendar page， and the promise of a new year lay before us.
We had time for everything， and then we had time for nothing — nothing except the virus.
Patricia Dowd of San Jose was 57. She watched her diet， exercised and took no medication， and in early February， she was the first known COVID-19 fatality in the nation.
How quickly then the novel coronavirus mocked our assumptions and challenged our simplest routines. A trip to the market， a drive to drop off the kids at school brought the specter of unfamiliar peril. It left some of us struggling to breathe， others trying to help and most hoping to keep their distance.
Forgotten were the fires that had ravaged Australia， an assassination in Baghdad. Impeachment and acquittal of the president belonged to the past. The theatrics after the State of the Union， anxiety over Brexit， relegated to another time and place.
Many lost all that they had. By the end of April， more than 30 million had filed for unemployment， 23 million were at risk for evictions， and the numbers kept rising. By mid-December， the United States had counted more than 16.1 million coronavirus cases and over 290，000 deaths.
In addition to this terrible accounting， the virus exploited our weaknesses. Inadequate healthcare， inadequate housing， inadequate working conditions and food deserts had left Black， brown and Indigenous communities in mourning.
The tragedy was clear: We could probe the universe and witness stars being born in a distant galaxy. We could find moments of grace: a daffodil placed on body bags， a porch concert in Pasadena， arias rising from the balconies of Rome， the streets of San Diego， the hills of Silver Lake.
But we could do little to alter the course of this disease.
No wonder then that we began to lose patience. Tired of lockdowns， tired of restrictions， we gave this tiredness a name: pandemic fatigue. We knew we were running out of time. Some of us had to take action.
When George Floyd was killed in Minneapolis on May 25， a coalition of the concerned — activists， protesters， families and friends — took to the streets. Eight minutes， 46 seconds became a rallying cry for the reckoning ahead.
As spring turned to summer， summer sparked heat， fires， smog and an endless succession of hurricanes and typhoons that battered our weary coasts.
Centuries of neglect， years of indifference had caught up with us. Once unable to imagine this warming future， we worried that we had squandered the time when we had it and were left now to crank up the AC or take to higher ground.
「I"m feeling great！」 the president declared from the White House after falling ill and being treated for COVID-19. If only we felt the same.
Soon， however， November was upon us， and as the darkest winter drew near， nearly 160 million found their way through the gloom. They mailed their ballots. They stood in line. They confirmed their faith in the promise of a more perfect union.
When the counting was over， the most important election in our history was declared the most secure. Trump got 74 million votes， but Joe Biden and Kamala Harris， with 81 million votes， will set a new course for America， and maybe they will have time and， with a vaccine， hope.
Time， we all know， is a measurement of the movement of our planet in space， but in 2020， it became so much more.
2020年應該與2019年截然不同，後者發生了紐西蘭清真寺襲擊事件、巴黎聖母院大火、對2016年美國總統選舉的調查以及對秩序的徒勞呼籲。我們翻過日曆，呈現在面前的是新的一年帶來的希望。
我們做什麼都有時間，可是接下來我們的時間什麼都做不了——除了與病毒為伴。
聖何塞的帕特里西婭·多德57歲。她注意飲食，鍛煉身體，不服用任何藥物，可是在2月初，她成為已知的美國第一例新冠肺炎死亡病例。
接下來，新冠病毒如此之快地嘲弄了我們的主觀臆斷並挑戰了我們哪怕最簡單的日常行為方式。去趟市場、開車送孩子上學都會帶來驅之不散的陌生危險。它讓我們有些人呼吸困難，還有人試圖幫忙，大多數人則希望保持距離。
肆虐澳大利亞的山火、巴格達暗殺事件都被遺忘。總統遭彈劾又被宣告無罪成了過去。總統發表國情咨文後的誇張言行、英國脫歐引發的焦慮退居另一個時空。
許多人失去了所有。截至4月底，3000多萬人申請失業救濟，2300萬人面臨遭驅逐的風險，這些數字還在持續攀升。到12月中旬，美國的新冠肺炎病例已超過1610萬例，死亡超29萬例。
除了這些可怕的統計數字，病毒還利用了我們的弱點。醫療保障不到位、住房供給不到位、工作條件不到位以及食品缺乏讓黑人、棕色人種和原住民群體哀悼生命的逝去。
悲劇一目了然：我們可以探測宇宙，見證一顆又一顆星星在遙遠的星系誕生。我們可以感受優雅時刻：擺放在屍袋上的水仙花，帕薩迪納的門廊音樂會，羅馬陽台傳出的詠嘆調，聖迭戈的街道，錫爾弗萊克的群山。
但是我們對改變這種疾病的進程幾乎無能為力。
難怪我們開始失去耐心。厭倦了封閉，厭倦了限制，我們給這種厭倦起了個名字：防疫疲勞。我們知道時間所剩無幾，必須有人採取行動。
當喬治·弗洛伊德5月25日在明尼阿波利斯遇害時，一個由活動人士、抗議者、家人和朋友結成的關切者聯盟走上街頭。讓他喪命的8分46秒成為召集未來清算行動的戰鬥號角。
春去夏來，夏季觸發了高溫、火災、霧霾，此外還有沒完沒了的颶風和颱風讓我們疲憊不堪的沿海地區遭到重創。
幾百年的置之不理、多年的漠不關心讓我們深受其害。曾經無法想像這種變暖的未來，我們擔心在還來得及的時候卻浪費了時間，如今別無選擇，只能開動空調或者去往地勢更高的地方。
總統在患上新冠肺炎並接受治療後在白宮宣稱：「我感覺棒極了！」要是我們也有同樣的感受該有多好。
然而，很快，11月來了，隨著最悲慘的冬天日益臨近，近1.6億人找到了穿越陰霾的方式。他們郵寄選票。他們排隊投票。他們表達了對更完美聯邦的信心。
計票結束後，我們有史以來最重要的這次選舉被稱為結果最牢靠的一次。特朗普獲得了7400萬張選票，而得到8100萬張選票的喬·拜登和卡瑪拉·哈里斯將為美國開闢一條新路，或許他們還來得及，在有了疫苗後還有望取得成功。
眾所周知，時間是衡量地球在太空中運動情況的尺度，不過在2020年，它的意義遠不止如此。（李鳳芹譯自美國《洛杉磯時報》網站12月13日文章）
