Goat-herding, such as that practiced by those who wrote the Holy Bible, is easy but not fun, or fun but not easy.

Goat-herders are tense people, because goats are tricky animals to herd. Billy goats can be mean--but usually there aren't very many of them--and your typical goat-herd (not flock, you'll notice) has mostly lady-goats, called "does" (pronounced "doas") in it. Dohs, lady-goats, speaking generally, are nice, pleasant, friendly animals--You'll want to pet them, and they'll proffer their heads and necks for you to scrrtch them. And they will want to go wherever you go--and that's all there is to it. Take along a dog for them to follow besides you, and head for the Still Water: You're herding goats. As far as that goes. You're being mindful of a bunch of fast-moving, medium-sized, friendly individuals who are glad of your company, but who can also, without a sense of loss, do without it.

And well, these are Semitic people, right? Phoenicians. Carthaginians. Buriers of their first-born sons under their threshholds, Such as wrought piteous tears in the eyes of tough Romans. It's to remember that as keepers of goats, they as qualmlessly eat their goats, as a Tartar drinks his horse's blood. Add ritual genital mutilation, stubborn monotheism, a tendency to patriarchal despotism--and a great store of goat (and sheep) skins, which is all you know to write on because you haven't invented paper yet--though nervous, exhausted and distracted from goat-herding--you begin: "Men are sons. Girls don't count. Sonness comes from Fathers' Fatherness. Fathers have Sons. Only sometimes also girls, but they don't count. Praise God."