Three, five, ninety-three: Exegesis? Not for me!

[desperance]

This is currently the season for deep and involving dreams. It is probably fortuitous - not to say fortunate - that I lend no credence to their meaning; but I am rather enchanted to learn that my dream-narratives can find as much pleasure in pedantry as I do myself. As, f'rexample, the debate as to whether the proper chant at a resurrection is Two, four, six, eight: time to resubstantiate or time to reincorporate...