Showing posts with label Parody. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parody. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 15, 2026

We Don’t Talk About COVID”: Cultural Amnesia, Set to Music


If you think about it, the 2020 pandemic gave us a rare opportunity to watch cultural amnesia in action. What was a moment of total shut-down in one season became, almost unbelievably, an “eh, meh, keep going” in another.

Kim and Penn Holderness combined that seeming illogic in “We don’t talk about COVID,” based on the rampaging hit from Encanto. It’s one of my favorite pandemic artifacts, part musical parody, part documentary. The video layers six tracks of self-harmonized vocals (including the cheek-popping “bongo” slap-track), interspersed with conversational fragments that are just as revealing as the lyrics themselves.

What they’re documenting isn’t just confusion; it’s adaptation. Or maybe something stranger.

Kim: “Half the school has COVID.”
Penn: “So I guess we’re just sending them to school?”
Kim: “That’s what it says.”
Penn - “So I guess that's what we're doing.”

That’s not denial, exactly. It’s not ignorance either. It’s something like… functional forgetting.

The weirdness of living through it

Puzzling and changeable guidelines, the loss of a million tests to poor inventory management, worries about exposure, and the incredible numbers of repeat cases: all of these are part of the pandemic experience.

And yet you pack a lunch for your kids and send them off to school while trying to manage the chat stream of who has come down with it. Contagion has become an everyday commonplace, not something to react to.

The song captures that dissonance:

We don’t know how to act
’Cuz they say the strain’s not as bad
So we just all kind of move along…”

There’s a truth in that. The world blows up; we all just kind of move along. Apparently, the 2020s are just that way.

Cultural amnesia as a historical force

Everyone kept saying that we were living in unprecedented times, but actually, there’s precedent floating out there.

After the 1918 influenza pandemic—one of the deadliest events in modern history—public memory faded with astonishing speed. Historians have called it “America’s forgotten pandemic.” It took a century—a CENTURY—for Philadelphia to memorialize the dead. (The outcome of that memorial initiative was lovely, thoughgo listen to David Lang’s “Protect Yourself from Infectionm” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejY4xvJQxtU)

The same thing happened, in a different way, during the Black Death. Cultural production—music, manuscripts, daily routines—continued with an eerie sense of continuity, as if the catastrophe could be bracketed off from ordinary life.

Even medical advice at the time went to the ostrich place: don’t dwell on death, surround yourself with pleasant things, keep your mind occupied.

In other words, don’t talk about it.

What we choose not to notice

Jenny Odell writes that “patterns of attention—what we choose to notice and what we do not—are how we render reality for ourselves.”

By 2022 (and even more so by 2024 and beyond), COVID didn’t disappear. The data didn’t vanish. In fact, excess deaths and undercounted mortality suggest the opposite—that the pandemic’s impact remained both real and, in some ways, uncalculated.

What changed was attention. Dashboards moved. Color codes softened. Testing declined. The signals were still there, but harder—or less socially necessary—to see.

We adapted our perception in a reversion to the mean. We wanted normal back. So we re-created normal.

The mechanics of forgetting

It turns out that there is a cluster of “amnesogenic practices”—ways cultures actively produce forgetting:

  • Ignoring (we stop talking about it)

  • Functional replacement (we replace one meaning with another)

  • Hyperstimulation (we fixate so intensely that meaning collapses)

To my eye, “We don’t talk about COVID” actually employ all three amnesogenic practices at once. Working backwards through the list, I find the song to be a kind of hyperstimulation—fast, funny, and dense with references and knowing “a-ha” moments. Its narrative shows functional replacement in action: COVID shifts from existential threat to background condition; it has been reclassified as the new normal. And, of course, the song refrain is all about silence. Our complicit, somewhat bewildered silence.

Is forgetting a problem?

Nietzsche argued that forgetting isn’t just inevitable—it’s necessary. A healthy individual (or culture) needs both memory and the ability to let things recede.

There’s even an argument that forgetting helps us function: it allows us to move forward, to act, to live.

And you can hear that in the Holdernesses’ closing conversation:

“We’re doing the best we can… but isn’t it weird?”

It is weird. But it’s also survivable.

Nostalgia, a so-weird nostalgia

What surprises me most, watching this now, is the feeling it produces.

The upbeat tempo. The tight harmonies. The shared confusion.

It’s… nostalgic.

Which is a strange thing to feel about a global crisis that, in many ways, hasn’t cleanly ended. Long Covid is still a thing; my students suffer from brain fog; we check the wastewater measures regularly to decide whether or not we’re comfortable eating out; we wear masks to concerts and the theatre, and on and on and on.

In that way, 2022 seems cleaner. At that point, we still had a working public health system that informed us about Covid spikes, and it was considered okay to be Covid-cautious. And it wasn’t the firehose of 2026, which has been, shall we just call it “a period of higher crisis density.” And yes, we do still have Covid and flu and brain-fog concernsmy students were chatting about those things just yesterday. But we talk as if Covid has gone away. No, we’ve just adapted to a higher level of “background deaths.” This isn’t the post-pandemic I had hoped for.

Talking about not talking

The song ends with a joke, but also with a paradox:

“Our three-minute song about not talking about COVID… that was about COVID.”

Maybe that’s where we are culturally.

We don’t talk about COVID.

Except sometimes, even now, we still do.

And when we do, it’s often through humor, music, or fragments—forms that let us approach the thing without fully confronting it.

Which might not be denial.

It might just be how cultural memory works.



TRANSCRIPT: “We don’t talk about COVID,” Holderness Family Music


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lf-8rEK63eg Post of Jan 12, 2022, #encanto #parody #bruno 


(man harmonizing)
Kim - Hey did you see half the school has COVID.
Penn - So I guess we're just sending them to school?
Kim - That's what it says.
Penn - So I guess that's what we're doing.


We don’t talk about COVID, no no no
We don’t talk about COVID, BUT

We were online tonight (We were online tonight)
Saw that the cases spiked
Like way off the page, that seems wrong (That does seem so very wrong)
We don’t know how to act
Cuz they say the strain’s not as bad
So we just all kind of move along (Should we really move along?)
Now we have zero clue what’s next (What comes after Omicron?)
Where can you even find a test? (In a warehouse in Florida)
And so I guess we think it’s best (It’s the elephant in the room)

That we don’t talk about COVID, no no no
We don’t talk about COVID

So many debates about vaxxin’ and maskin’
We just trying to shorten how long this is lastin’
Never knew how good we had it before (Shh shh)
And all the new guidelines
Seem kinda puzzling
People don’t care
I don’t know if that’s troubling
We are all trying just to do the best we can
Isn’t everyone, man?

Kim - We're doing the best we can. But isn't is weird everybody's getting it but we're like "Eh. Keep on moving"?

Six feet away, I was talking to a dad
And now he has a cold
And he’s coughing really bad
We were outside, not enclosed
But was I exposed?
Who knows?

We don’t talk about COVID, no no no
We don’t talk about COVID

Our friends went to New York
The next day, COVID
Another friend has not gone anywhere
But COVID detected
So many friends got COVID last year
And they got it again
I’m at the point where I just don’t understand

C – D – C, they told us recently
To shorten isolation time
If ya not super sick or you been on a ship
After 5 days I guess you are fine
Then our kids went to school
And I guess that it’s all cool
Half their friends are out sick
But they don’t close the school
Like they used to do
They just kind of don’t talk about it…


Kim - And scene!
Penn - Yes.
Kim - So that's our song, our three-minute song about not talking about COVID that was about COVID.
Penn - But like we have to talk about this a little bit; isn't it weird?
Kim - It is weird that in 2020 there was one case in our county and we shut everything down.
Penn - Right.
Kim - And then now, like most of the kids, like we're getting just like blown up.
Penn - Everyday.
Kim - With alerts from our kids' school about teachers and students that are sick. And we're just like "We're gonna, okay, here's your lunch. I guess we're just doing this".
Penn - And I guess the vaccines help but it makes it easier to go there. But isn't it weird how different.
Kim - And we're just not talking about it. And we're just going on with life.
Penn – Under the rug.

Kim - I get it, look, I'm sick of talking about it.
Penn - Anyway, the moral of this song is watch Encanto.
Kim - No.
Penn - It's really good. Well, I'm just, sorry. Watch Encanto.
Kim - No, now you sound like a white guy trying to say.
(popping)
Penn - I'm gonna just. I'm gonna loop this.
Producer- Yeah, I was like "Do we need to" (laughs).
Penn - No, it's starting to hurt.
Producer- Yeah, like you're slapping yourself.
Penn - But it does sound like bongos.
Producer - It does.


Thursday, March 6, 2025

Satire, Sound, and Swine: The 2009 Flu Pandemic Goes (Musically) Viral

A pink pig puppet in a black and white striped hat with a bucolic background
News flash: “Swine flu breeds in pigs,” says announcer Anderson Cooper on CNN, and we flash through five flu alerts (including one interview with a masked couple) as we listen to the opening chords of “The Swine Flu Song,” posted to YouTube by PutnamPig in April 2009. Before we even make it to the first verse, we’re aware of the positionality of its creator. News anchors have been modified to judder, their mouths shaking in a visual equivalent of a musical trill, yet their anxious words proceed undoctored – except for the underscoring, of course. The news here is suspect, its narrative in question, the packaging of global media shown to be an artificial manipulation of reality. It is, in other words, an effective intro for a pop song about a problematic world event, written within a few days of the topic becoming international news.

And when we do get to the verse, it quickly becomes apparent that this is a satire, mocking the concept of Swine Flu as a whole and, even more, to the public narrative about the threat. The bulk of the text is delivered by a puppet pig wearing a black and white striped hat and an FBI shirt (! standing for “Bald Innocent” !), singing in a whiny and nasal Elmo-like voice, the timbre of which may haunt your dreams. That, coupled with the obsessive melodic repetition – relying on a pentatonic scale (degrees 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6, a melodic language which avoids all the musically-directional half-steps) over and over and over again – creates a catchy-but-annoying landscape in which one’s brain knows exactly what to expect – and so slides its attention to the words.

Those words are quite remarkable too. From a textual standpoint, the song purports to be debunking the false claims leveled against the poor pig population. Pigs didn’t cause the swine flu, the song contends. It comes… from a lab. This is particularly funny if you happen to identify the musical inspiration behind the song – Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” The claim here is much the same: if we’re culturally are not at fault for everything going wrong in society, well, pigs aren’t at fault for the swine flu either. The parallel is amusing.

PutnamPig’s version of the song has three verse sets, each of which includes four short quatrains linked together in a parallel structure (a1, a2; a1, a3). These, per standard pop-song format, alternate with a chorus. Structurally, after the beginning clips which orient us to the newsworthiness of the song, there are two more intercut news clips with continued harmonic underscore: one between the pairs of quatrains in the first set, and a much shorter one between the two pairs of the second set of verses. The overall structure is:

    News+Intro, Verse 1a, News, 1b, Chorus, 2a, News, 2b, Chorus, 3a, 3b, Chorus, Chorus, Outro

Image of Toot & Puddle
The first set of verses (1a through 1b) names a whole series of wholesome childrens’-book characters  as their images flash on screen; none, points out the song, have any symptoms:

Miss Piggy, Arnold Ziffle,
neither has a little sniffle
Porky Pig and Pooh's Piglet,
No fever yet

Putnam, Gordy, Toot and Puddle,
Not contagious safe to snuggle
Ask Petunia Babe, Noelle
All of them feel well


The patter presentation, mostly presented recitationally, plus the regular rhyming and the attention-grabbing hiatus for Piglet at the cadential drop – “No fever yet” [pause] -- pulls us into children’s song landscape.

But we cut back to the news alert, “The World Health Organization says it appears to be spread from human to human.” That topic seems to inspire a shift of melodic structure, for the second pair of strophes of the first verse (1b) start out parallel to the first pair, but digress as the song starts to blame-storm. Instead of heading downward for the cadence as we did for Piglet, the melody (can we call the recited text a melody?) moves upwards to an anxious clangor: “Now it’s in the USA, No one's safe this day and age!” Hammered out in bad Elmo-esque whine with staccato 8th notes repeating the same pitch 14 times (with some intonation bending), we certainly get the idea of street-shouting, even though there is nominally only the single singer:

How it started I don't know
Stay away from Mexico
Now it's in the USA
No one's safe this day and age


Together, that verse 1 complex makes sense of an unfolding pandemic: everyone’s well, and when they’re not, well, perhaps intensification should be the go-to response:

But there is some relief, at least musically. That pentatonic melody from the beginning, that seemed really repetitive? By now we’re glad to have its multi-pitch variety return in as the music of the chorus. Having established a recitational style during the four quatrains of verse one, the contrast of style comes as a relief and enhances the chorus’s musical allure. 

The text context of the chorus, however, is firmly in the realm of conspiracy: “Pigs didn’t start the swine flu / Blame the laboratory / For this awful Story // Pigs didn't start the swine flu / No we've been betrayed /The strain appears man-made… “ With the punchline rhymes of “betrayed” and “manmade,” the song posits a nefarious origin rather than a porcine one.

The second set of verses also starts by shaping the melody to descend at the end of each quatrain, but as we approach the next blame-topic, we again elevate the pitch as we escalate the claims, again with the shouty reciting: “Run a temp and get the chills / Everyone run for the hills.” There’s truth buried in the text – no-one blames dogs, for instance. (That’s actually for good reason, though. For swine flu (H1N1), the transmission chain was human to dog, rather than the reverse, and normal canine influenzas, HDN8 and H3N2, don’t typically infect humans.)

The third set of strophes actually starts at the escalated and elevated pitch as if shouting rejection to its claims; instead of viewing pigs as “clean and pink,” the association of name with virus sticks in the mind. Of course, the same was true for the Asian flu of 1957 and the Hong Kong flu of 1968; there is a reason we have moved from location-based naming of diseases. As it happens, the World Health Organization’s guidance in 2015 – six years after the 2009 Swine Flu – suggested avoiding associative terms for new diseases, in part because they triggered the needless slaughter of food animals. The world is counseled to avoid:

    • geographic locations (e.g. Middle East Respiratory Syndrome, Spanish Flu, Rift Valley fever),
    • people’s names (e.g. Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, Chagas disease),
    • species of animal or food (e.g. swine flu, bird flu, monkey pox),
    • cultural, population, industry or occupational references (e.g. legionnaires), and
    • terms that incite undue fear (e.g. unknown, fatal, epidemic).

Putnam’s recommendations, it seems, were culturally resonant, and eventually acted upon!

As we move toward the end of the song, the third strophe’s second half follows the more familiar shape. It offers a lower first quatrain first, and then the by-now-familiar escalation, this time for the climax: “This disease it needs a name / Which animals should we defame / Nobody will likely mind / If we named it for an ugly swine.”

The song ends with two full statements of the chorus, and a long instrumental outro. Over the first part of the outro, Putnam speaks his final lines, which are, curiously, non-rhyming, conveying both a sense of intimate conversation (just him as speaker and the solitary listener listening to confidences that just happen to be picked up by microphone), and an authentic perspective after the highly stylized and structured main body:

The pigs are innocent I tell you / We didn't do anything wrong
We didn't start this disease / But we're taking all the blame.

With all that, have a listen to the whole song: 

PutnamPig, “The Swine Flu Song,” April 30, 2009
 

ORIGINS AND CONTEXT

PutnamPig (who goes only by that cognomen, even on Facebook and LinkedIn, leaving his/her/their actual identity private) is primarily a Minecraft account, and was set up a year before the swine flu pandemic. Even though coming to health commentary as a sidelight to their normal offerings, their swine flu song is remarkably well-aligned with sentiments of the time, and perhaps even prescient.

Two things strike me as particularly insightful.  First, the timeline of events, traced by Paul Shapshak et al. (2011) and Smallman (2015), shows that Putnam’s creator was actually quite forward-looking, writing about the flu before it was considered a global pandemic. The lyrics early on in the song point out that cases were now being found in the United States. This is a remarkably quick capture of the event that had actually justified the change of the disease’s status to stage 5, as the timeline shows. The song was posted just 8 days after the first national alert, and only four after the US declaration of a public health emergency:
  • March 24-April 24, 2009: influenza infections in Mexico
  • April 22: the Mexican government issues a national alert
  • April 23: the US government announces 7 cases across Texas and California
  • April 25: the Mexican government declares a public health emergency
  • April 26: The US government declares a public health emergency
  • April 27: H1N1 found in Europe
  • April 29: WHO raises pandemic alert level to “phase 5” (with outbreaks at least two countries in one WHO region)
  • April 30: Egypt announces a cull of pig herds
  • APRIL 30: PutnamPig’s Swine Flu Song
  • May 2, 2009 China suspended flights to Mexico
  • June 12, 2009: WHO announces a full “phase 6” pandemic alert level
  • August 10, 2010, the WHO declared an end to the 2009 influenza A/H1N1 pandemic
Or maybe that’s easier to see in the calendrical view – here, yellow is outbreak, blue is government action, and pink is the song’s debut:

A little more than a week from first government action to the song's debut

Likewise, the themes of the chorus – the purported laboratory origins and man-made release of the disease – align with many of the conspiracy theories Smallman (2015) was able to trace, including a cluster which called out Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld’s long-term involvement with Gilead Laboratories as a potential beneficiary of a global pandemic. They were, after all, the ones who owned TamiFlu. As they say, “Information” doesn’t have to be true to circulate widely on the internet. Smallman also implicates YouTube as a news source, finding that more than 15% of the 142 “news” videos examined from that first few months of the swine flu epidemic “called the outbreak a man-made conspiracy.”

PutnamPig’s “Swine Flu Song” stands as both a time capsule and a cultural artifact. Although it shares the relentlessly upbeat idiom of the Flying Fish Sailor’s confrontation with the past in “The Flu Pandemic Song” (which I wrote about last month), it differs in important ways, since the “Swine Flu Song” captures the anxieties, misinformation, and conspiratorial currents that swirled around the 2009 pandemic as it was happening. It is reportage, but reportage with a difference. Its rapid creation and viral spread underscore the speed with which music, satire, and digital media can shape public perception, particularly in moments of crisis. By setting news clips against an intentionally grating yet catchy melody, the song exposes the performative aspects of media-driven panic while, ironically, simultaneously participating in the same ecosystem of viral information. 
 
A decade and a half later, the song’s themes remain strikingly relevant, reminding us that the ways we frame disease – whether through news narratives or pop-cultural satire – carry real consequences for how societies respond to outbreaks, assign blame, and remember pandemics.

WORKS CITED:

Billy Joel, “We Didn’t Start The Fire,” from the album Storm Front (1989), with the chorus “We didn't start the fire / It was always burning / Since the world's been turning / We didn't start the fire  / No, we didn't light it / But we tried to fight it...” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFTLKWw542g

Billy Joel, mocking his own melody for “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dx3T8pbDcms 

Cynthia Cyrus, “Flu Music as Mockery: The Flying Fish Sailors and Pandemic Humor” [Blog Post], Silences and Sounds, Feb 26, 2025, https://silencesandsounds.blogspot.com/2025/02/flu-music-as-mockery-flying-fish.html
 
History of the H1N1 (“Swine Flu”) outbreak of 2009:

Phases of Pandemics explained: “Pandemic Influenza Preparedness and Response: A WHO Guidance Document,” National Library of Medicine, NIH, from Pandemic Infleunza Preparedness and Response, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK143061/

Visualizing Pandemics: “A visual history of pandemics,” World Economic Forum, Mar 15, 2020  https://www.weforum.org/stories/2020/03/a-visual-history-of-pandemics/

WHO disease-naming guidelines: “WHO issues best practices for naming new human infectious diseases.” [Note for Media]. 8 May 2015.
https://www.who.int/news/item/08-05-2015-who-issues-best-practices-for-naming-new-human-infectious-diseases

 




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