I really enjoyed reading Wendell Berry’s “Some Further Words” poem, which
“I like the world of nature despite its mortal dangers. I like the domestic world
of humans, so long as it pays its debts to the natural world, and keeps its bounds.…a house for sale is not a “home.”…A rich thief is a thief. And the ghost
of Arthur Moore, who taught me Chaucer, returns in the night to say again:
“Let me tell you something, boy. An intellectual whore is a whore.…”Intellectual property” names
the deed by which the mind is bought
and sold, the world enslaved. We
who do not own ourselves, being free,
own by theft what belongs to God,
to the living world, and equally
to us all.