there are many things that a visitor from another planet might find curious about this one.
one is the situation of the drunkard, a familiar figure in virtually all earthly societies.
the drunkard is despised, though not, as a rule, vehemently. he is not quite regarded as a criminal, and he does not excite the horror accorded the “drug fiend” or the contempt directed at the lecher.
but the curious thing is that he is not only tolerated but enabled. in “good “ times and “bad”, in war and peace, in famine and plenty, in the golden ages of empires and the desperate declines and upheavals of civilizations, somehow the drunkard always finds a way to his drink.
the river of drink never stops flowing. this despite the fact that few drunkards brew their own potions.
this although the drunk, by definition, is “lazy” and “good for nothing” and a parasite on society.
the constant flow of drink is never a stated public concern. no seeker of votes stands before a cheering crowd and announces, “my fellow citizens, i plan to raise taxes in order to buy booze for every bum in every doorway in the city.”
no enlightened reformer of society ever declares, “the most important thing we as a nation must do is provide for the unslakable thirst of the most sluggish and inebriated among us.”
no conqueror enters a city and announces, “under my enlightened rule, all law abiding citizens shall work three extra hours a day, so that an army of unwashed and unshaven rabble may sit in taverns and on sidewalks all day wallowing in self-pity and further dulling their feeble brains.”
no child says, “mommy, please work as many hours as need be sewing burlap bags, never go to bed or sleep, but make sure daddy has his gin.”
the drunkard has “nothing”. but the breweries and wineries and distilleries of the world never sleep, and the ocean pours forth for him, and never recedes.
very strange.
waiter, a bock!
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