On my leisurely round of central Zagreb, this morning I walked through a long gateway and garden that connect two parallel streets. Both belong to an archeological museum I have never visited. The gateway is lined up with a number of Greek and/or Roman statues. Many of them show nude male bodies. Not one of them has a penis, though. Only bulging testicles remain. My first thought was that the offensive parts had been chopped off by barbarian hordes bent on humiliation. Or Christian puritans offended by the impious nudity. It took me a while to realize that the protruding bits had most likely suffered from nothing more sinister than the wear and tear of centuries. Indeed, some of the noses are missing, as well. My thoughts only betray my own biases rather than the supposed biases of barbarians or Christians. Roman history, and especially the history of its decline, must have gotten under my thin skin. By and by, I have turned into a Roman myself. A touchy Roman, to be a bit more precise.