Sunday, October 22, 2023

Pass The Feather


from www.womenswellbeing.org

In a sharing circle
pass the feather,
speak words of conciliation.
Expand your horizons,
open up your heart,
bleed, shed a tear,
share in the sorrow.
Come together in embrace,
heal in love and peace.
Imagine our solid bond,
one to another,
to another, to another....

*******


The circle influences how Indigenous people view the world. That is, how all things are connected. Balance relies on this connection and without balance, health is compromised.

Everything in circles; cycles. The sun, the moon, the seasons, the journey of our lives from birth to death. Circles are a natural way to walk your path and conduct your life and align with the fundamentals of the natural world.

Indigenous ways of knowing use and interpret the circle in many different ways but with the same good intentions. The medicine circle (wheel) is used as a diagram for everything from the four directions, a path to health and wellness, the connection between the human races of Mother Earth as well as the cycles of life, seasons and medicines.

The circle is whole and doesn't end; the circle can be unbalanced depending on what is in it or not in it. But in general, a circle is impartial, fair and representative of inter-connectivity and equality.

www.passthefeather.ca

Wednesday, May 31, 2023

Below The Sierra





Majestic Sierra de Tepoztlán,
twenty million years in the making
openly embracing indigenas, conquistadores, 
now faces acquisitive globalist undertakings.

Old man volcano Popocatepetl
fumes, he threatens to all-out blow;
the Earth may shake and rattle and slide,
ashes rain down and lava flow.

These mountains will as always survive,
Nature, stirred and flushed, will recover,
human hands will re-build from ruins once more,
this land will remain on guard, abiding forever.

Saturday, May 20, 2023

Tepoztlán - Myths & Mountains


Margarita Vargas Betancourt writes in Legend of the Tepozteco - Mesoamerican and Catholic Mythology: "The legend of the Tepozteco is a perfect example of the syncretism that characterizes Mexican folklore. Catholic influence is as obvious as pre-Hispanic impact. The immaculate conception of the Tepozteco recalls the marvelous birth of the Hero twins (as told in the Popul Vuh, the story of creation of the Maya), but also that of Jesus in the New Testament."
She concludes her thesis: "The legend also discloses the process by which two mythologies have come together into Mexican folklore: Mesoamerican and Catholic mythologies. The stories of Tepozteco, the Popol Vuh Hero twins, Mixcoatl-Camaxtli, Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochtli, and even those of Jesus and Moses have several things in common: a miraculous conception, a confrontation, and a peregrination. It is very likely that these elements are universal. However, there are several “authentic” Mesoamerican characteristics in the legend of the Tepozteco. First of all, Tepozteco was a trickster. He was a trickster-hunter like Hunahpu, Xbalanque, and Mixcoatl-Camaxtli. He is reminiscent of Quetzalcoatl, because like him, Tepozteco embodies the forces of wind and water. His final association with Mesoamerican cosmovision is that he is one of the four hundred pulque gods that are related to the mountains of the region, to the agricultural cycle, and to the astronomical phenomena of ancient Mexico."

Firecrackers galore, outside the church

Tepoztlán carries the legend of Tepozteco, its pre-hispanic past and its Catholic heritage with fiery pride as can be seen by the celebration of religious festivals and spiritual rituals, the vibrant murals adorning town walls, the regular community and barrio fiestas, firecrackers and all. The pueblo preserves a communal system of land use that was established in the early colonial period. This system is recognized under the 1917 Mexican Constitution, under the name 'communal'. It is similar to, but not the same as, the ejido designation, which has caused headaches for many foreigners looking to buy property. This makes the municipality proud and resistant to change from outside interests, especially well-heeled ones. The community famously twice voted down golf courses proposed by wealthy developers. Tepoztlán is the only municipality in Mexico with a law expressly prohibiting their establishment. Multinational chains like Starbucks, McDonalds, Burger King have been kept at bay, as has the otherwise ubiquitous Mexican supermarket chain Oxo, while pulque, mezcal, tequila, cerveza are readily available along with a rich variety of local produce and cuisine, with some dishes dating back to pre-hispanic days. This is a community where each barrio, or neighbourhood, and neighbouring pueblo is serviced by regular minibus combi public transit - every ten minutes! People work hard, spending long days growing and making products and selling them at market or in tiny stores. They also celebrate heartily and welcome crowds of marauding visitors from the big city on weekends and holidays.



One of countless murals depicting a cosmovision

Tepoztlán has been traditionally a proudly campesino (small-scale) farming and local market community. Its State of Morelos is, after all, the birthplace of the revolutionary Emiliano Zapata, founder of the land-rights Zapatista movement. Eyes were opened when anthropologist Robert Redfield published the book “Tepoztlán, a Mexican Village: A Study of Folk Life” in 1930, painting the village as an idyllic contrast to modern life. Redfield lectured at the University of Chicago on the folk society, which he saw as "essentially a stable, isolated extended family". The first expats and tourists were not long in treading a path to Tepoztlán. A highway connecting it to Cuernavaca, a little over a half-hour drive west, in the 1940s allowed tourism to begin in earnest. Now an express toll highway linking Mexico City with Acapulco and the Pacific coast skirts the town. Luxury hotel chains are still nowhere to be found. There is not even a hospital in this pueblo of 14,000 in a municipality of 55,000. They turned that down too. There is a health centre, clinics, spas, yoga and meditation centres, health treatments of all kinds, including plant (maguey, nopal, huitlacoche, mushrooms) and psychedelic (iboga, ayahuasca, psylocibin) medicines. In this semi-arid region of Mexico are more than 3500 species of plants that have been identified and used as natural alternatives to treat different ailments and have been used through the years as traditional medicinal agents and that practice and knowledge have been passed down from generation to generation. For a fullsome inventory, visit
https://www.aztlanherbalremedies.com/collections/mexican-herbs.
Temazcals, a type of low-heat sweat lodge, are widespread here. They originated with pre-Hispanic Indigenous peoples in Mesoamerica. The term temazcal comes from the Nahuatl word temāzcalli.

Medicinal herbs at the market

As written elsewhere (https://natureasmuse.blogspot.com/2023/05/pulque-nectar-of-gods.html), I have been enjoying the local home-made tangy, creamy pulque, made from the fremented sap of the maguey (agave). On our way to find artemesia absinthium (wormwood) at the market to quell a two-day high temperature, we came across a well-stocked homeopathic pharmacy in town. I bought some artemisia drops along with the recommended pomegranate tincture to complement it. We have also been drinking the refreshing te de jamaica (hibiscus flower tea) as a digestive. Gundi snagged a combination arnica/rhus tox (homeopathic poison ivy) cream to settle an itchy rash on her leg. One afternoon, after sampling my pulque, in viscous combination with sparkling mineral water, she lay down after being ministered an hoja santa tea, picked from the garden here by Angelina, our 'Juanita', who swears by it for an upset tummy, that Mexicans seem to know all about. Ten minutes later she perked up, stomach fine again, and I too recovered! For more on hoja santa, see https://www.thespruceeats.com/hoja-santa-mexican-herb-2342959. Thanks to our friend Alfredo, we have a new discovery - he picked and brewed a pink bougainvillea flower tea to quell a stubborn cough.

Unfortunately for us, the mountain trails all around Tepoztlán are closed at present, a seasonal hazard of extended hot, dry conditions that makes forest fires an extreme hazard. Maybe a good thing for seniors like us, but one we would like to have experienced is described by AllTrails thus: "This trail begins from the tiny village of Amatlán de Quetzalcóatl, just east of downtown Tepoztlán. This route is said to pass through a portal of positive energy, as it ascends to a lookout point on top of the mountain Tlamanco, which is considered to be a place of religious offering, as well as boasting amazing views. Towards the end of the trail, there is a short bit of a rocky climb, where you need to put your hands and feet in holes in the side of the cliff. Prehispanic petroglyphs may be visible along the trail. The route passes by "La Puerta," a spiritual retreat center." AllTrails has 60 scenic trails in the Tepoztlán area. See https://www.alltrails.com/mexico/morelos/tepoztlan.

Tepoztlán and its breathtaking surrounds are a magical gem, symbolized best by its enveloping cloak of monumental peaks that maintain their Nahuatl names, like Tlacatepetl, Tepoztecatl, Cuaxohualoltzin, Topiltzin, Ehecatepetl, Tlahuitepetl... This is an enduring, resilient place and people, built on myth and mountains, cultures and beliefs, food and farming. There's an energy around here - they call it la vida.










Monday, May 15, 2023

Pulque - Nectar of the Gods




Maguey (agave plant), prepared pulque

There is evidence that pulque has been drunk for over two millennia and its origins are the subject of various stories and myths. Most involve Mayahuel, the 'goddess of the maguey'. It was said that the aguamiel collecting in the centre of the plant was her blood. Legend has it that the great god Quetzalcoatl was watching humanity and noticed that at the end of the working day the people did not dance and sing but, instead, seemed rather miserable. To brighten up their lives Quetzalcoatl decided to give them something which would lift their spirits. Falling in love with a beautiful goddess Mayahuel, Quetzalcoatl and she, having embraced, turned into a tree with two branches. Mayahuel's grandmother was not best pleased with this turn of events and so, accompanied by a troop of fellow demons (tzitzimime), she attacked the tree, splitting it into two. Mayahuel was then ripped to pieces and eaten by the terrible demons. A heartbroken Quetzalcoatl collected the bits and pieces left of his lover and tenderly buried them. Eventually, these remains grew into the first maguey plant and humans used it to make pulque. In the end, Quetzalcoatl's wish that humanity might benefit from a drink which increased their happiness came to pass.


Mayahuel, often seen as the goddess of pulque, is often depicted emerging from a maguey plant with a cup of pulque in her hand. Some sources name Tepoztécatl, one of her sons, as the god of pulque. El Tepozteco, a pyramidic temple on a hill in Tepoztlán, is dedicated to him. is an archaeological site named after the deity. The site was a sacred place for pilgrims from as far as Chiapas and Guatemala, and is now a popular tourist attraction. According to Aztec myth, Tepoztēcatl was one of the Centzon Tōtōchtin, the four hundred children of Mayahuel and Patecatl, the god that discovered the fermentation process. As a deity of pulque, Tepoztēcatl was associated with fertility cults and also with the wind, hence deriving an alternative name of Ehecacone, son of the wind.

MexicoDaily News.com reports that "In pre-Hispanic times, pulque had many functions. It provided nutrition, was used in religious ceremonies, as medicine and in special events, like weddings and feasts honoring warriors. It was also given to the priests performing human sacrifices and also to the victims. But it began to fall out of favor with the arrival of the Spanish.
Although they did not ban it outright, the Spanish did their best to discourage its consumption, seeing it as unclean and something that was corrupting indigenous populations. The biggest threat came in the late 19th century when German brewers arrived in Mexico and a campaign was begun to promote beer and denigrate pulque."

Through the Mexican War of Independence and the Mexican Revolution, waged against the government of Porfirio Díaz by revolutionaries like Emiliano Zapata who hailed from this State of Morelos, pulque remained an important and valued beverage. (Zapata's agrarian movement lives on to this day through the Zapatistas, in Chiapas, for example). But pulque was more than just a drink: it was medicine, culture, and a significant moneymaker. The introduction of railways sped the perishable drink from the producing haciendas in the hills into the valley of Mexico City and other cities, where there was growing demand. Toward the end of the 19th century, pulque was the main alcoholic drink and maguey production occupied an outsize role in Mexican agriculture. However, following the revolution, President Porfirio Díaz courted foreign investment - including from breweries, which ended up pitting pulque against beer for drinkers’ pesos.

Through Naomi Tomky at SeriousEats.com we learn: “Pulque,” says Mexico City–based food and travel writer Arturo Torres Landa, “like many things in Mexico, is a story of resistance.” When beer came to Mexico, an aggressive marketing campaign, assisted by government efforts to increase local demand for beer, sought to repeat the colonial-era framing of pulque as dirty and low-class, the stuff of a rural backwater. “It was seen as primitive and rustic,” Torres explains, which made it easier for rumors to be spread - generally assumed to originate from beer companies - that pulque was unhygienic and possibly fermented with feces. But the drink persisted, much as it had through the destruction of a great civilization and the crush of a colonial power.

Today, like the dream of the 1890s, pulque's resurgence serves as an example of how everything old can be new again: at bars like Las Duelistas in Mexico City, three-day drunks bob their heads at the bar while young hipsters share pitchers. Garrido bought the 106-year-old bar 12 years ago out of his love for pulque. He’d been working in pulquerias since the ‘70s, and he heard business at Las Duelistas was bad and it would close. So he bought it. “How could I not?” he asked. The pulque-drinking crowd seems like a jumble of people of all ages, but Torres says there’s a generation missing—the one that lies between the young people and hipsters who have fueled the drink’s revival and the older folks “who grew up drinking it like it was water.”....
For the curious tourists, the hipster locals, the older men alone at the bar with an oversized, chipped stein, each glass of pulque is a little bit of Mexico. It helps visitors feel close to the location, helps the long-timers remember earlier days, and helps the youth feel connected to the past. The pulquerias all across Mexico City, both new and old, bring what was once the drink of gods and emperors, then of the rural poor, to the urban masses, one sip at a time."

Because of the limited transportation and the limited area where the maguey (also known as agave) grows, the drink stays pretty local to Mexico City and surrounding Mexico and Morelos States, and the nearby states of Tlaxcala, Puebla, and Hidalgo. The fresher the pulque, the better, cleaner, smoother and more refreshing the flavour.




I have been sampling the local pulque, freshly prepared poured by Don Alejandro at El Buen Pulque, opposite the main church in Tepoztlán. He calls the drink Pulque del Abuelo, as it was his grandfather planted and grew the maguey and made pulque from it in the Tepoztlán area two generations ago. Don Alex's brew tastes good - complex, creamy, slightly fruity, fizzy, and tangy; it picks up the essence of the Mexican dry tierra and hot sun. Pulque is said to have curative properties and high nutritional value, containing minerals, amino-acids, proteins, enzymes and vitamins as well as probiotic potential. Thanks to the high presence of lattobacilli to regenerate gut flora, it is considered particularly effective in the treatment of gastric and duodenal ulcers and the management of cholesterol, and thus helps to treat cardiovascular problems. It is highly diuretic and the enzymes it contains are very effective in invigorating a slow metabolism. A Mixtec Oaxaca Slow Food Presidium speaker claims "Pulque represents a symbol of identity for Mixtec communities that we have managed to preserve in the course of time. We have fought to ensure that this beverage does not disappear from family diets, despite the invasion of junk and industrial food."

Salud. Here's to Mayahuel, Quetzalcoatl, and Tepoztécatl,
Y Viva la Revolución!














Wednesday, May 10, 2023

Tepoztlán - Pueblo Magico



"Ni la tierra ni las mujeres somos territorio de conquista"

Yes, the apellation 'pueblo magico', now with over 130 members has been overplayed. But you can't argue with the sense of magic in the air.

In the mountains of Morelos, Mexico lies the town of Tepoztlán, nestled up to a powerful towering mass of volcanic basalt sierra. The rocks maintain their Nahuatl names, like Tlacatepetl, Tepoztecatl, Cuaxohualoltzin, Topiltzin, Ehecatepetl, Tlahuitepetl...
To the north, over the mountains sprawls Mexico City, at 1,750 metres above sea level some 500 metres higher altitude than Tepoztlán; to the south the land slopes off past the Valle de Tepoztlan through the tierra caliente eventually to the sea and the Pacific Ocean. Now, in May, the hottest month, the temperature reaches a steady 30 - 32 degrees by day, dropping to a more comfortable 15 - 18 by night. In the dark, the warm winds pick up, whistling through the trees, freshening up the sultry air. Until the much-anticipated rains arrive around July, the heat is dry (although there was a brief, refreshing shower last night). And yet, the vegetation is mixed, the crops varied. Amazing crops grow. This is land bathed in eternal Spring. In a month or two, the landscape will explode in buds and blooms in many shades of iridescent green. The mountains will turn from hazy tan to lush verdancy.


Living on the Atlantic Ocean in a tiny village of fifty inhabitants, we have escaped for a few weeks at least to soak up the hustle and bustle of a small Mexican town on market days, and even busier weekend days when chilangos descend en masse escaping the city. It is a sharp yet refreshing contrast. In Little Lorraine at this time of year, the energy of the sea and the wild coast drive us; we love the sound of Spring peepers in the pond, waves breaking on the beach, and lobster boats leaving pre-dawn on their daily harvest mission. Here, the mountains and people energize us with their hearty embrace. Sleep is gently stirred, and sometimes rudely disturbed, by roosters crowing, dogs barking, neighbours chatting, church bells chiming, bursts of loud fireworks announcing birthdays, fiestas, and God knows what else.

The Friday organic farmers markets are a joy to behold. The produce and goods on offer are freshly picked, mixed, brewed, baked, and squeezed. Oranges, limes, figs, mangoes, wild berries, spinach, lettuce, carrots, beets, breads, cheeses, smoked meats, kombucha, fruit wine, medicinal herbs, skin creams are eagerly snatched up by happy faces, generous with bright eyes and radiant smiles. In the evening as the sun goes down, we walk around the corner to Piantao and seat ourselves outside in a charming garden looking up at the expressive rockface. Giovanni serves us fresh empanadas de carne and the best prosciutto, arugula, shaved parmesan pizza. Chef is Sergio - Sergio Pezzutti, an amazing artist who paints hauntingly evocative figures, depicting the angst of modern existence. After dinner we view his gallery with him. 
w


From Argentina, Sergio and family have settled in Tepoztlán after fifteen years in Cancun. It is good to meet such creative souls, who inspire with their flashing eyes, their warmth and vision.

Another day it was time to belly up for some authentic pre-Hispanic dishes at Cuatecomate, a busy food stand slap-bang in the middle of the daily Tepoztlán mercado. Don Hancel introduced me to the tlaltequeadas - I chose two each of the squash blossom, chaya leaves with carrot; beetroot with Castilla rose petals; hibiscus flower, celery stalks and toasted oatmeal to take home. 



Tlaltaqueros at  Cuatecomate market stand

A committed omnivore, I also wanted to try one of the meat dishes. On offer were iguana, armadillo, wild boar, rabbit, snake, and venison. The venison in a spicy red salsa with nopal leaves and fresh tortillas was amazing, washed down with guanaba juice. To make this a more genuine pre-hispanic dining experience, pulque would have been a more apt accompaniment. Pulque (an alcoholic beverage made from the fermented sap of the maguey plant), widely sold and consumed here in Tepoztlán, comes next. It was banished by the conquering Spaniards to make way for beer, but the spirit, like the religious symbols, could not be eradicated! Then, of course, we have the tequila and mezcal in all their varied guises....




Monday, November 7, 2022

Wandering Through Ice And Mountain Peaks


The Wanderer Above The Sea Of Fog, painting by Kasper David Friedrich

Have just embarked on the epic Nietzsche Podcast on Spotify. It is penned and narrated by Keegan J. L. Kjeldsen.

Episode 2 (of 50 plus to date) bears the title above. 
"In this episode, we discuss the character of The Wanderer. Der Wanderer appeared in multiple Nietzsche works, mainly during the period from Menschliches, Allzumenschliches, through Die fröhliche Wissenschaft. Evidently Nietzsche identified himself with this character. The wandering that Nietzsche did throughout Europe, and while hiking the Alps, paralleled the metaphor of 'philosophical wandering' in Nietzsche's work. We'll also discuss a potential inspiration for Nietzsche, in the motif of "wanderers" in German culture. The significance of philosophical wandering as Nietzsche's approach to philosophy is that Nietzsche's project ends up looking very different from that of most other philosophers. Episode art is Caspar David Friedrich's Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer."

Keegan concludes the episode with a lengthy, powerful quotation from Nietzsche acolyte Stefan Zweig:

"How is it possible to be placed in this amazing uncertainty and multiplicity called ‘existence’ without questioning its meaning, without trembling with curiosity, and without the voluptuous emotion engendered by questioning ?” 

Thus did he rail at our sit-by-the-fires, and make mock of those who are easily satisfied. He, the typical adventurer in the long savannas of thought, was not even inclined to possess his own life; here again he demanded a surplus on the grand scale: 

“What is of genuine importance is eternal vitality, not eternal life.”

For the first time on the ocean of German philosophy the black flag was hoisted upon a pirate ship. Nietzsche was a man of a different species, of another race, of a novel type of heroism; his philosophy was not clad in professorial robes, but was harnessed for the fray like a knight in shining armour. Others before him, hardy navigators of the spiritual world, discovered continents and founded empires; they were animated to a certain degree by a civilising and utilitarian intent, hoping to win those unknown lands to the profit of mankind, to complete the map of the philosophic world by penetrating further and ever further into the terra incognita of thought. They set up the standard of God or of the mind in these new-found lands, they built cities and temples, planned out streets and avenues in the unknown, while governors and administrators followed in their steps in order to reap the harvest of the pioneers’ labours — commentators, dons, men of culture and the like. 

But the aim of these forerunners in the philosophical universe was repose, was peace and security. They desired to increase terrestrial possessions, to promulgate norms and laws, to inaugurate a superior kind of order. Just as the filibusters invaded the Spanish world towards the close of the sixteenth century — a lawless gang of desperadoes, lacking restraint, acknowledging no king, men without a flag and without a home — so Nietzsche made an irruption into the philosophical world, conquering nothing either for himself or for those who should come after; his victories were not achieved for the sake of a monarch or dedicated to the greater glory of God, but purely for the intrinsic joy of conquest, since he did not wish to possess or to acquire or to conquer. He was a disturber of the peace, his one desire being to plunder, to destroy property relationships, to trouble the repose of his fellow mortals. 

With fire and sword he went forth to awaken the minds of men, an awakening as precious to him as is a fusty sleep to the vast majority of mankind. In his wake, as in the wake of the filibusters of old, churches were desecrated, altars were overturned, feelings injured, convictions assassinated, moral sheepfolds sacked; every horizon blazed with incendiary fires, monstrous beacons of daring and violence. Never did he look back to gloat over his acquisitions or to appropriate his conquests. He strove everlastingly towards what had never been explored and conquered; his one and only pleasure was to try out his strength and to rouse up those who slumbered. He was a member of no creed, had never sworn allegiance to any country. With the black flag at his masthead and steering into the unknown, into incertitude which he felt to be the mate of his soul, he sailed forward to ever-renewed and perilous adventures.

Sword in hand and powder barrel at his feet, he left the shores of the known behind him and sang his pirate song as he went :

I know whence I spring.
Insatiable as a flame,
I glow and consume myself.
All I touch flashes into fire,
All I leave is a charred remnant.
Such by nature am I — flame."

Thursday, January 13, 2022

The Diddly Squib Pox



A DETAIL OF NANCY EKHOLM BURKERT’S ILLUSTRATION FOR EDWARD LEAR’S “THE SCROOBIOUS PIP.”

Written March, 2021

The Diddly Squib Pox

"The Scroobious Pip went out one day
When the grass was green, and the sky was grey.
Then all the beasts in the world came round
When the Scroobious Pip sat down on the ground.
     The cat and the dog and the kangaroo
     The sheep and the cow and the guineapig too--
     The wolf he howled, the horse he neighed
     The little pig squeaked and the donkey brayed,
     And when the lion began to roar
     There never was heard such a noise before.
     And every beast he stood on the tip
     Of his toes to look a the Scroobious Pip.
At last they said to the Fox - "By far,
You're the wisest beast! You know you are!
Go close to Scroobious Pip and say,
Tell us all about yourself we pray-
For as yet we can't make out in the least
If you're Fish or Insect, or Bird or Beast."
The Scroobious Pip looked vaguelyy round
And sang these words with a rumbling sound-
     Chippetty Flip; Flippetty Chip;-
My only name is the Scroobious Pip...."
(Edward Lear)

There once was an island whose folk were jaded and bored. Their land, though once rich with natural beauty and endless resources, was tired and abused. The people had forgotten how to tease food from the earth or become too lazy to do so. They had plundered the soil, poisoning it and depleting its once-abundant productivity. Rivers ran laden with effluent, the rains unleashed acrid torrents, and the winds whipped up fierce storms of fire and smoke. The seas all around pressed in on the shore with pounding waves and the highest tides in living memory. The air became a cauldron and the forests began to burn out of control. 

When the people became paralysed by a strange inertia that overtook their will to counter these rapid, worrying changes in their lives, they started to believe they were done for. It was then that things took a much bleaker, way scarier turn for the worse. Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, came a pox that leaked a virulent venom and started striking down the vulnerable - the old, the sick, the tormented among them. They say it came from 'nowhere', out of the wild, from the deepest jungle one day, on the breath of a diddly squib (esquibus diddlus silvestris). This semi-mythical creature got loose causing havoc, borne by the wind, spreading fear faster, and pestilence further, than wildfire ever was able, like a dragon of old.

The islanders were so startled, so stricken by fear, they panicked, they did. Their leaders assembled and set down laws to deal with the dubious squib pox, to exterminate the beast, that were so unprecedented, so extreme, so draconian, so disproportionate, so lunatic, so farcical, so barking mad, that the people piped up, almost in unison, OK, enough, we will comply, but just for a while, until we bend back into shape. We will stay home and wait things out, we will cover up and keep away from others and bathe devotedly - as long as you deliver us food and wine and satellite news, oh... and more toilet roll and soap. And please, get rid of that diddly squib and its pestilential pox. It is driving us crazy!

So, the lofty leaders got together, by satellite. They were guided by their geneticist-in-chief, a lauded man beyond reproach, and his trusty epidemiologists in the Fatality Allocation Review Team, the esteemed FART. They sat and conferred with the government and came to a conclusion. They must exercise their power, act, conclusively, exert control, direct the deaths. They must stand up definitively to the diddly squib pox (which, in hindsight, became universally labelled as EDS2020). They would throw the kitchen sink at it, dirty washing and all. In a fierce flash of lightning, a mere instant, they would come up with a magic potion that would melt the pox away, stopping the manic spread of EDS2020 and protecting the whole island. However, there were two catches, the first proviso being that treatment would need to be universal and the second - because eradication was out of the question - it would have to be regularly administered, with updates forever. There was no guarantee that the magic potion would work since this was a novel concoction developed in a laboratory and did not use the tools of Nature. Such a daring sleight of hand, such an act of sorcerous wizardry had never been hysterically undertaken before, but this didn't matter because the people were sore afraid, suffering from panic overload. It was untested over time in real life conditions and nobody could say how safe or efficacious it would prove to be, not even the geneticist-in-chief, lauded though he was. But magical thinking was deemed necessary to defeat this fearsome foe. Time was of the essence. "We are smart, we hearty FART", the leaders chanted in unison.

So it was that the fear-stricken populace lined up in an endless slow-moving procession of possession to receive their dose of potion - a shot in the arm that was to become the first of many aiming to deal the fatal death blow to the devious, evasive pox. But with each dose delivered, the pox became emboldened and invigorated. It mutated and variegated. When and where would it all end? Perhaps - a few among the many mused - it would have been better, wiser to leave the beast well alone, unconfronted, unteased into lashing out.