Best

photo by Altercator

The idea that this is the best of all possible worlds is usually ridiculed. 

Generally attributed, in the Western canon, to the 18th century German philosopher, Leibniz, it was famously parodied by his French contemporary, Voltaire, who created, in his novella, Candide, the character, Dr. Pangloss, who went around espousing the view at every opportunity. 

Hence the term “panglossian,” which is usually used as a pejorative, as in, “Professor Dave is so stoned he has a panglossian attitude on things; doesn’t he realize that this can’t be the best of all possible worlds, what with so much needless suffering, pointless violence, and country-rock music?”

Yes I do, and have been certainly, but that still doesn’t convince me that things couldn’t possibly be better than they were, even if the mist kept turning to drizzle and in spite of not getting to follow Fancy Fred out of the park in the most unusual way. 

In the first place, the fire got hot enough that you could continually dry yourself by rotating slowly (and in doing so, manage to actually launder away some of the waffle batter crust from last week on one’s vest) and in the second, it’s probably just was well the evening out ended at the point it did given that it’s only the very first day of spring break and there will be plenty of other opportunities to go shirtless and yelling over the next couple of weeks.

We did without a moon on the Thursday closest to the equinox, what with it being the night before the day of the new one, but there was plenty of lunacy abounding nonetheless. 

The Angry Hippy remarked that pretty much everyone standing around the fire is the weirdo at their work, which means that the weirdoes among the assembled are the weirdoes squared.

You know who you are (but, of course, if you do, then you’re not—just like the world which is best isn’t but is.)