I remember my Mother defusing our scare of summer thunder with an explanation learned from her Mother. 'Nothing to fear. Only the angels moving the furniture around in one of the many mansions,' she'd tell us.
And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage / Until the golden circuit on my head, / Like to the glorious sun’s transparent beams, / Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.
Steeped in a culture telling us to think of ourselves as consumers instead of citizens, as self-reliant instead of interdependent, is it any wonder we deal with a systemic issue by turning in droves to ineffectual, individual efforts?
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.
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