When I first moved here a few months ago I went to a Buddhist store to buy a fat buddha. I wanted a god of prosperity, but the fat buddhas were too expensive; I settled on a god of vice, a red dragon. I realize to the Christians the dragon is Satan, especially a red one; but I was not a Christian, and had freed myself long ago from such superstition. I placed the dragon on a little square coffee table by the wall. To his right I put a little liquor glass with four cigarettes; to his left I placed a teacup with loose, dry tealeaves in it. In front of him is an empty libation cup which I placed there a few months later, and there is an incense holder to the left of the cup with the tealeaves, in which I sometimes burn sticks of incense; and in front of the whole setup is an unlit candle. I leave the candle there unlit, and never burn it. When I am about to partake in one of my vices, tea or beer, I pour a little into his libation cup, the empty teacup in front of him. I do not yet know his name. When I was a Muslim I once transgressed by punching eyes, a nose, and a mouth into a globe, and setting it up on that coffee table with candles and incense. But it looks a little less bizarre with a store-bought statue of a buddha or dragon. I light the incense before it, I pour the libations before my god of vice; I look at it and feel a little better about my vices, as if he renders them gentle and balanced--and I am a little disappointed that he has yet to become holy to me, that still I look at him and see no life, but some form someone poured into a mold, some cheap little statue as dead as the mold that made him. Yes: I'm a little disappointed that he has not become holy for me.