There is a reason to be in the belly of the beast: it’s safer than being outside. Even old Hobbes knew that (Thomas, not the stuffed tiger). Why is there that eternal tension in us? The 2 little figures on our shoulders. You’ve seen them: one has horns and a trident. The other has only a halo. The little devil whispers in your shell-like, “Hey, we don’t need these rules. We’re outta here!” The haloed one says, “Stay put. It’s safer. You are in good company.”
So, do we listen to our better angels, or that little bugger who wants out? Why the debate? Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, right? Yet, we twitch and feel as if we’re in a wooly sweater knitted by a loving relative and it’s the dog days of August when faced with the “rules” of the republic.

This tension is what we call politics.