Instagram overflows with people grinning beside needles, holding little cards like golden tickets. Relief is real, but so is performance. “Look at me, I’m responsible!” becomes another way to rack up likes.
Don’t mistake me — I’ll take virtue signaling over ventilators any day. But the spectacle grates. The same people who wouldn’t wear masks now post glamour shots in parking lots, arms out, filters on. America turns even medicine into marketing. What matters isn’t whether you got the shot. It’s how many hearts you got on your feed.