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Freedom, fried

Today was the last day of the first session of summer school. After some perfunctory review of the material, we fell to chatting. I asked all the kids what their plans are for the weekend.

All weekend, every male student in all my classes will be blowing things up. Cans. Crates. Barbie dolls. All manners of explosives, legal and, ahem, otherwise.

I’ll be going to a barbeque, where things won’t get much more incendiary than the grill itself, and perhaps badminton.

As Herakleitos put it:

This world order did none of gods or men make, but it always was and is and shall be: an everliving fire, kindling in measures and going out in measures.

It’s all about the fire.

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