Miracles have come to town.

There is a field near my clinic. Most of the year it's used by local clubs as a sports field, but every now and then it's rented out for use as a political rallying ground, to set up itinerant fairs, etc.

Today, they set up a huge tent covered stage, stalls, and loudspeakers on poles. We knew what was going to happen.

First they began with rock music - loud, way too loud rock music. It wasn't plain rock either - I might have forgiven that. It was gospel rock. That was just the preliminary round, to bring in the people. Then they would bring on the heavy artillery. Which had of course been advertised round town for days:

"Gospel Rock and Evangelical Festival. Noted Evangelist and miracle worker from ..., the Rev ... ...., will speak and heal illnesses. Entry fee..."

It's hardly anything new. Just fill in the blanks.

And such is the level of dissatisfaction with ordinary life, so great is the level of disgust, that people flock to these jamborees. Where they will throw themselves into peculiar spasms and babble meaninglessly. Where the blind hear, the deaf see, and the dumb turn calisthenics.

I realise it's been a while since I opened up my Bible, but did it not have a bit where Jesus Christ refused to perform miracles for Satan, calling it blasphemy?

Anyway, a friend asked if they had some kind of cure for asthma. I told her, sure, all you have to do is have total unreasoning faith, faith and of course...

If you want to be cured of asthma, you've got to be suffering from gout or something.

Ape hanger handlebars and choppers...unfortunately, to be a member of one of the outlaw clubs, like the Hells Angels, you must be a criminal; it's a prerequisite.
Also, I find it ironic that people allegedly dedicated to as liberating an activity as biking should want to immure themselves in a club with fixed regulations.
Kind of childish.
But, oh my, do I love those bikes!