As with Washington, Rome’s sexual excess primarily plagued the small senatorial class. Rome’s demise had far more to do with exhaustion than with not making the right sort of babies (despite Mussolini and Hitler’s attempts to convince their compatriots to the contrary). Rome simply could no longer manage the agriculture, trade and warfare disbursed throughout its empire, from Egypt to Anatolia to Britain. It fell apart. Barbarians (though not those trained by Blackwater or on Wall Street) merely delivered the coup de grace. Mr. Bush’s wars, our exhausted infrastructure, our moribund manufacturing and corrupt financial markets, are eerie reminders of what precedes the fall of empires.

Overreaction to Rome’s sexual excesses, however, in the guise of church teachings from Augustine (a celebrated sinner) on down — refracted mightily through prudish lenses and defracted through centuries of “do as I say, not as I do” leadership — continues to plague us. Et tu, Kurt?

Mr. Dobson may also find, to paraphrase a Rowan Atkinson remark from long ago, that that’s where christianists go, because you see, the Jews were right. Meaning that such distinctions are useful only to perpetuate the unhappiness common to the Other Place, and that they, too, are irrelevant in a heaven that doesn’t need them. Heaven, you see, Mr. Dobson, is common to all; hell, on the other hand, is very personal indeed.

People marry animals? Combining human and animal DNA?

Wait a minute, that second one? Wasn’t that a Rob Schneider movie?

Some of you may laugh at my three examples above, but unfortunately they are already happening (to a degree anyway).

Were I to hope for some sort of spiritual condemnation to come down upon them, then I would be treading the same path they walk. I’m not prepared to subject my spirit to such negativity. They are welcome to it.