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                  Picture of a young boy being prepared for a ritual circumcision.
                  
    
      XCIRCUM
    
    
    
      by J. Michael Mahoney
    
    
      (with apologies to W.S.)
    
    
      To cut, or not to cutthat is the question: 
        
        
        
        Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
        
        
        
        The scalpels and razors of outrageous surgeons 
        
        
        
        Or to take arms against a sea of CIRCUMCISERS 
        And by opposing end them. To defy, to protest 
        No moreand by a protest to say we end 
        
        
        
        The heartache, and the thousand unnatural shocks 
        
        
        
        That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation 
        Devoutly to be wished. To defy, to protest 
        
        
        
        To protest, perchance to prevail; ay, there's no rub, 
        
        
        
        For in that protest of defiance the prevailing may come 
        
        
        
        When we no longer shuffle off this mortal prepuce, 
        
        
        
        Must give them pause. There's the respect 
        
        
        
        That makes calamity of violating Nature. 
        
        
        
        For who would bear the barbarism and 
        
        
        
        atavism of circumcision, 
        
        
        
        The priest's wrong, the proud doctor's false hygiene, 
        
        
        
        The pangs of unlubricated love, the law's indifference, 
        
        
        
        The insolence of ritualism, and the spurns 
        
        
        
        That patient child endures as the unworthy takes, 
        
        
        
        When it itself must later better make 
        
        
        
        With a full bodkin? Who would circumcision bear, 
        
        
        
        To grunt and sweat over a weary wife, 
        
        
        
        But that the dread of something worse than death, 
        
        
        
        The undiscovered castration, from whose bourn 
        
        
        
        No traveller returns, puzzles the will, 
        
        
        
        And makes us rather bear those ills we have 
        
        
        
        Than fly to others that we know not of? 
        
        
        
        Thus cowardice does make capons of us all, 
        
        
        
        And thus the native hue of intelligence 
        
        
        
        Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of primitivism 
        
        
        
        And phalli of great pitch and moment 
        
        
        
        With this regard their currents turn awry 
        And lose the name of being civilized. Soft you now, 
        The fair n'Ophelia!  Nymph, in thy embraces 
        
        
        
        Be all my mutilations remembered. 
    
      
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           Please refer to William Shakespeare's HAMLET, Act lll, 
            
            sc. 1, lines 47 through 56, beginning with "To be, or not to be: that 
            
          is the question:"  | 
       
      
    
      
      
      
Dear Reader:
 
       The attached article on circumcision was written by the late Dr. John M. Foley, of Frankford, West Virginia.  It appeared in the July-August 1966 issue of FACT magazine.
	       Dr. Foley was born in 1918 and died in 1968 of a heart attack.  He graduated from the medical college of Virginia in Richmond in 1950 and received his license to practice medicine in 1951.  He was in general practice in the Frankford area and had a secondary specialty in internal medicine.
 
 Please Click Here to Finish Reading the Article.
 
To read the article "Psychological Effects of Circumcision" By Gocke Cansever Click Here.
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