No, not for curing the common cold. For keeping the cold out of your stuff. I was reminded of this while poking around this morning. The boys and I went for an early walk – I’ve finally got feeling back in the tips of all ten fingers – and I went about doing this and that around the property. One of the morning chores I usually forget to do is to blow out the candle in the valve house. The pipe that comes out of the ground from the pressure tank for connection to the various lairs on the property is surrounded by a heavily-insulated little frame building, nicely stuccoed a few years ago by my landlady. Of course all the insulation in the world won’t help you if there’s no heat to hold in, so somebody came up with the idea of keeping a supply of those tall religious candles in the glass jars. It’s possible this is a regional thing; I don’t remember ever seeing them in the Midwest but I wasn’t looking. Also, I genuinely hope this won’t offend any Catholic readers – such is not my intent. But yeah, in the supermarket you can buy these tall candles-in-a-jar for a buck and a half. I guess they’re intended as votive candles, because they’ve all got pictures of saints I never heard of. But they’ll burn for four or five days straight – a lot longer if you remember to blow the damned er, blessed things out during the day. Perfect for keeping the pipes in the valve and well houses from freezing – it actually stays quite toasty in there – and they don’t take any electricity or propane. Saints be praised!


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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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