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"Faith" isn't the aegis I claim, but in spite of how I probably come off, I am not a straight-laced positivist, and please never accuse me of "humanism". Betimes I am plagued or blessed with suspicions, intimations, ecstatic conjecture.
"Gods?" Trundle out that word, and you're already missing the point. Sounds like fun. Let's miss the point. When I talk about a "god" it's not the same thing as the sad caricatures we have learned to prop up against the new orthodoxy of science. Nor is it anything so small as a metaphor decorated with artistic flourish.
How many? Zero, one, a thousand. Wrong question. How many of recurring interest to me, personally? Less than a dozen, I should think. How many which figure prominently in my realest, most secret hopes? Two. Sometimes they are female and male, in that order, and they are not strangers.
That's not deliberate, but I like it. It seems sad that the Jealous God has to be so alone, and with all that power, too. No wonder he lashes out.
Drake
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