If a Christian is one who turns his slapped cheek to the slapper for more roughhouse, the American male is no Christian. We are more like Lafcadio Wluiki, the hero of Andree Gide’s novel, “Lafcadio’s Adventures.” Lafcadio keeps a small knife handy, and whenever he is insulted, he stabs himself in the thigh to memorialize the insult. Forgetting is forgiving. We are not braggarts. An Ahmadinejad here would be laughed to scorn. But we know how to nourish scorpions in our hearts. That we do well. And when the time is ripe, BANG goes the stinger.