I worry now about rule with a "view to private interest," and I do so while I hear the call of greatness and declarations regarding primacy of place. I am not a country, but a man. Am a working man, a human of this present with a desire to exist peacefully and fluidly. My primacy of place is fixed by my love of self, not the screeching of banshees propping themselves upon the backs of others. But the great spirit that protects me is vulnerable. Hijackers, proponents of a collective disintegration, work their voodoo on the frazzled, hoping to string us along together. They feed on the sores of the body ideologic, drawing strength from the bubbling excretion of the wilted body as if imbibing a sacred elixir.