A time comes when it might be necessary to recall the discussions I have had with myself on the nature of structure. The French School, from something like the 1970's, while tempting hasn't actually resulted in a form for the Rabbit of Usk. The damned thing is just all over the place, and in another four or five years, if I continue with the French School, not much will have changed.
One option is to Potlatch. A ceremony that frees the mind to start again. Sadly
the Rabbit of Usk is now a tyrant in my imagination, and he will not permit me
to do so. And for this, I must blame my own frailties, my own weakness and
reach once again for the Book Of Psalms. And in the Psalms the only two
words of comfort I can find are, "Yea though..."