I saw into the future
I have received my latest shot in the shoulder, which I have been informed is no longer considered a booster, merely the most current formulation of the COVID-19 vaccine after the fashion of a seasonal flu shot. I am sure it would not assuage the national surfeit of magical thinking if it were further reframed as an exorcistic incantation—the Erra epic in injectable form—but it would entertain me. I'm going to lie down.

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Thank you! It's an eighth-century BCE Babylonian epic about the eponymous god of plague and political turmoil who almost destroys humanity with the assistance of the mysterious and terrifying Seven, whose annihilating rampage is satisfied at the last minute by the much more controlled and directed campaign conducted by his minister Išum. It's a weird, brutal, uncelebratory piece, but its relevance is that portions of its text were used apotropaically, as amulets against strife and illness and plague.