Anthrax: (n) a notifiable bacterial disease of sheep and cattle, which can be transmitted to humans, causing severe skin ulcerations or a form of pneumonia.
People often demand that sensibility requires a certain amount of fear.
Matter of fact, one of the easiest ways to portray yourself as an idiot is to suggest to a roomful of people that they stop all worrying, relax and enjoy the journey.
There are just certain words that evoke terror in the human spirit and cause us to reject all common sense in deference to abstract horror.
Anthrax is one of those.
It’s not really clear to me what happens when you have anthrax, but it is the substance of theatrical tale and myth, which leads us to believe that an outbreak of this disease could wipe out the planet, and more importantly, harm us.
I do not know what is adequate apprehension to make sure that you do not accidentally kill yourself with a condition or calamity that smacks you in the head during your season of unawareness.
But I grow weary of being warned more than enlightened, cursed more than blessed, alerted more than informed and frightened more than loved.
Is there a balance?
Is there a correct amount of information imparted to us which allows us to be knowledgeable without becoming irrational?
Here’s the approach:
1. Explain to me what the danger is.
2. Freshen my mind with ideas of how to avoid the danger.
3. Balance it by letting me know what power I have to prevent, alleviate or eliminate the pending doom.
To me, if you don’t include all three of these in your announcement of Armageddon, you will find yourself failing to really enjoy the days leading up to the end of the world.
(By the way, the most dangerous condition passed on by sheep and cattle is heart disease…)
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix