I’m no more protected in my clapboard house than they were in their cave. The voice of an ancient forebear rises within me and issues a warning cry. The cougar still lurks on the ledge over my head; the barbarian horde still threatens my town. I put my trust in the electronic appliances of my age; surely they will defend me against the pestilence that rises without warning and spreads like locusts across the land. But once again I know I am allowing myself to be deceived. The only security I know, that I will ever know, lies in me. And so I sit high on the windward deck and tell myself to
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