H. L. Mencken is gone and more's the pity; an even greater pity is that puritanism, by his definition, is not.
The latest target in the fun-hater's crosshairs is alcohol-infused whipped cream. Sold only to those old enough to buy Demon Rum, it is nevertheless -- according to the nanny-minded -- a Dire Scourge, presumably because it might be fun. I guess it's okay with them if you wanna slump at the bar and grimly choke down gin with Winston and Julia, or gulp cheap whiskey in your dingy office while waiting on clients, lulled by the clatter of Raymond Chandler hammering out another chapter on the other side of the too-thin walls, but if you enjoy an occasional drink, why, That Is Just Too Much and by the time we get to high-test foamy topping for an Irish Coffee on a cold day, it makes their heads explode.
Having driven the alcohol-and-caffeine energy drink just about off the (legal) market -- "for the children" -- their arrogance grows. What's next? Boxed wine? Premixed drinks?
This needs to be nipped in the bud. We already have laws, tons of 'em, aimed at keeping intoxicating beverages away from citizens under 21 (we'll let 'em go trade gunfire with baddies, but a beer? Oh, heavens no! That takes three more years of growing up) . Those laws aren't perfect but making this stuff illegaler only penalizes the people who are old enough to buy it.
You can't legislate foolhardiness out of existence but if you try hard enough, you can outlaw fun.
Don't let 'em.
CHICAGO RAILROAD FAIR, 1948
1 week ago