In a particular (and, truth be told) incendiary reference in one particular “holy text” a particular city (city-state?) is brazenly called a whore. Not surprising since the authors of the epistles, poems, and legalisms comprising that anthology were largely nomadic people with particular customs and a sense of insular cultural awareness. As nomadic people, they shunned the noise and the decadence they perceived among particular groups of sedentary people. The Babylonians were one such group of people. In secular history, we recognize the Babylonians as civilized: well, civilized enough to handle such developments as city-planning, space-allocation, codified law (written down, no less!) and...not surprisingly the need to beautify. Though reviled (and perhaps rightly so, by one group of people) one cannot deny the sense of recognizable civility the Babylonians at least aspired to...on a good day. Their “hanging gardens” were a wonder of the ancient world: a gentle touch to soften their rugged environment, and though they no longer exist, they’re still considered a wonder. On the night that I took the long walk to the train-ride home. Chicago wasn’t in its cow-town mood. It was quiet. It was almost contemplative, and as I passed the glass-enclosed stairwell of a light-fixture boutique, I wondered what an ancient Babylonian would think in seeing hanging lights. Would they have thought that such things were just the right finishing touch for their famed, hanging gardens? One can only wonder. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.