Why can I not focus and just get this knocked out of the ballpark? Or at least hit a line drive? I’d just like to get on base. Or storm the pitcher’s mound. Or something. Some baseball metaphor that means my essay about the recurrence of limited war is done. I can really sum it up in one sentence. We returned to limited war because all of a sudden we realized our capacity to blow the enemy to smithereens would also put us in a pickle. Dear Prof Dobbs, or Charlie as I call you on my own time, Good enough? You seem like the kind of guy who would like the word smithereens. Lets go.