Mrs. C isn’t looking so I have time for a post.
I’ve caught a cold. The Cynical Compound currently smells like a mixture of Echinacea, Vick’s VapoRub, Palm oil, cherry flavored Halls, Robitussin, some barely legal vintage of Nyquil which I had to give my license over to procure, and enough Zinc that you would think there’s an entrance to a mine somewhere underneath the bed.
And if that isn’t enough, Mrs. C is currently brewing some Haitian potion that consists of star anise, ginger, eye of newt and toe of frog. It’s unclear whether I have to drink it or bathe in it.
Mrs. C’s potions are working but she’s banning me from going near the computer until I’ve completely recovered. So in lieu of blogging I’ll spend my afternoon reading Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. Hopefully, normal blogging and respiratory functions will return tomorrow.
I would like also to liberate the politician. At present, the
successful office-seeker is a good deal like the center of the
earth; he weighs nothing himself but draws everything else to him.
There are so many societies, so many churches, so many isms, that
it is almost impossible for an independent man to succeed in a
political career. Candidates are forced to pretend that they are
Catholics with Protestant proclivities, or Christians with liberal
tendencies, or temperance men who now and then take a glass of
wine, or, that although not members of any church their wives are,
and that they subscribe liberally to all. The result of all this is
that we reward hypocrisy and elect men entirely destitute of real
principle; and this will never change until the people become grand
enough to allow each other to do their own thinking.
Robert Green Ingersoll – “Some Mistakes of Moses” (1879)