When I open my eyes to the gray light peeping around the borders of the curtains and drop my hand to scratch the stubby little ears of my dog, I do not trouble myself with thoughts of the world or its viruses or those who scramble after its thrones or its frocked masters who speak for God or its oil reserves or its intentionally-stoked fires of unrest. These things may come to affect me someday, but in order to do so they will have to make their way to this small acreage. If they do this, they may well learn why the gate to my life is locked and guarded.…