and for all you Freudians out there ...

Yes I know I didn't explore the Mast-Head image in all of its phallic glory. I know such negligence in dream interpretation is arguably criminal, especially when referencing a text containing such blush-inducing gems as the following:

"There you stand, a hundred feet above the silent decks, striding along the deep, as if the masts were gigantic stilts, while beneath you and between your legs, as it were, swim the hugest monsters of the sea, even as ships once sailed between the boots of the famous Colossus at old Rhodes."

And, yes, I know Freud would direct me to unpack the autoeroticism inherent in all that urgent card-playing.

But you know what? Phooey on that. I need at least a fig leaf's worth of coverage, here, however anonymous my little blog.