I’m a peasant when it comes to art, music, literature appreciation. Enjoy the surface appeal and history, not involved in different meanings. One exception was reading The Inferno as an adolescent.

Dante, of course, makes the punishments in Hell fit the crimes. But the deeper reveal is that the punishment is the crime. Angry people are consumed by their anger. Nice idea.

That has limits. People who hurt people and society need to be disciplined and controlled regardless of their internal angst. The meek must fight for their rights here on Earth and not depend too much on eventual justice after death.

But as a day-to-day salve, hoping people stew in their own juices has psychic merit. For example, that idiot in the tailgating car may be developing ulcers. The wealthy constantly waste precious barren hours of their limited existence to preserving and displaying their gold. At least, it is a comfort to believe so.

True or not, fables can help us get through the varied theaters of life. A great deal of philosophic thought is devoted to little else. At certain times, in certain situations, believing that nastiness rebounds karmically on the annoying person can make me smile.

Perhaps were I a deeper thinker, more such tools would be available to me. But alas I am a small geezer of little brain, and obliviously I bumble on through Hundred Acre Wood.

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