Up in smoke

Up in smoke

It’s nice to know that in the week I was away the world didn’t get any more logical, saner, or less weird. For example, an Irish government official warns that forcing altar boys and girls to be near incense may put them a higher risk of cancer. Secondhand incense? Can a ban be far behind?

What’s next? A ban on charcoal barbecues? That’s the problem with Nanny Government: there’s always something for it to do. Do we expect government to save us from every possible health risk? Eventually we just will be encased in giant plastic, hermetically sealed bubbles to prevent any possible harm coming to us, because of course we’re too stupid to make our own decisions, to care for ourselves, or to decide that some dangers are so remote that courting them entails no risk whatsoever.

Memo to big government liberal types: If you want to warn me, fine. Do it and leave me alone.

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  • Ode to Incense
    A Poem

    I fondly remember my youth,
    fighting to be the one who weilded the incense,
    breathing deep of its fragrant aroma,
    that work of the apothecary,
    the gift of the Magi,
    the scent of heaven.
    Returning to the sacristy,
    replenishing the pire on the hot coal,
    breathing deep anew,
    oh,
    to die for.
    Lord, incense us with your Glory!

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