Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

Some subjects are just too sensitive for public discussion;  voire, for public mention.  I would not, for instance, here dare to breathe a word in favor of --nay, one bare syllable that were other than resolutely against -- that towering cloven-footed horn-crowned demon-colossus of our twitchy times … c*g*r*ttes …  Lest this blog be proscribed by all right-thinking citizens, and my effigy burnt -- or rather, igneously recycled.

However, our in-your-face colleague and drinking companion, Murphy, labors under no such constraints.  He’s taken many a slug  from a plug-ugly mug, and he’s not about to be bothered about what some sophomore from Bryn Mawr might think of what he says.   And here you may read his shameless dithyramb

~  ~  ~ In Praise of Camels  ~  ~  ~

[Note to the speech-police who monitor this site:

By “Camels”  I of course mean, dromedaries.  Our humpy friends.]

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