Marx called religion an opiate, and all too often it is. But philosophy is an anesthetic, a shot to keep the wonder away. What is the world? What kind of place is it? What is it doing? Why is it here? How do we know? The questions are fine. Sophia is the goddess of wisdom. Philosophia—the brotherly love of wisdom—is a perfectly clean pastime for boys and girls alike. But philosophy proper has become a place to hide, a place to pursue immortality (through never going out of print) by being foggy enough