Dona nobis pacem.
Doesn't one ever fear the persecution which will attend one's "necessary" assaults upon socially constructed theologies, imperial judiciaries, and historically-na•ve reformed movements? Doesn't one sometimes flush with pride in the future chance to taste the bitter poison and to share the sophist's fate? Oh God, why have you left me estranged from my old philoi, from America and her secular constitution, from Puritanism and her feckless rebellion again the schoolmen and the rebirth? Must, I like Odysseus before me, be condemned to wander the seven seas, staring at the beautiful divas and copying strange inscriptions from the margins of memory? Can I never come home and lie with Penelope and care only for the state of my own garden? Perche, perche, perche.