beseech Thee. Lift up Thy mighty, multi-tined sceptre and smite the heathens from Cootlumbia. Too long have they been allowed to roam, seemingly free from Thy righteous curse. Tonight you can cast your spells once again, using the sheep from Chapel Hole to show the coots you still hold the power over them. In the name of the Howard, the Ford, and the Holy Tiger do we plead. Amen.
...I never submitted the whole system of my opinions to the creed of any party of men whatever in religion, in philosophy, in politics, or in anything else where I was capable of thinking for myself. Such an addiction is the last degradation of a free and moral agent.