The Wedding Guest
by Anthony Esolen
I don't know that I've ever seen turkey vultures squabbling over a dead animal on the side of the road. Vultures seem to be cooperative sorts. Plenty of meat for everybody, boys. Not so perhaps with man.
Our fiercest social battles now have to do with marriage—what it is, who gets to enjoy it and how many, what it means, and whether children are accidental or accessory to it, like handbags. One would think that everyone was battering down the door of every house of an eligible young person of either or (in our time) indeterminate sex, so that a girl (or in our . . .