Ding dong the witch is dead.
The Wizard of Oz
I must protest beloved friend
Though all my worldly goods are wearing thin;
Much of what you think and beatifically envision
Is not in keeping with the season.
These times are rich and full of witty guile
For a very small percentage of a very self-appointed few.
Only atheism has any real vigour left,
Admirable flexibility in its outer extremities.
The rest has taken a depreciating turn
For garter belt-loving priests, market-savvy rabbis,
And other growths that cataract the inner eye.
Not much more need be said:
Art and Science will always clothe this year’s man,
Robes and shawls encased in storm-proof mothballs.
