Every year, a new cache of medical students is baptized into this ageless art, and with this distinction comes a ceremonial distribution of the white coat. I was exuberant when I received mine—how beautiful! The thick cords of fabric are so neatly woven, reminiscent of chain mail armor worn by Lancelot and his peers…. Yes, this is a suit of armor, my impervious battle dress against the foes of Disease and Illness. It is replete with knowledge, seething with confidence, keen in choice of diagnosis and treatment—a great garment of ritual and power no different than Merlin's robe or the shield of Constantine. The brilliant white threads reflect purity of heart and clarity of mind, illuminating the nature of human condition. With this armament, we saw ourselves as the natural optimistic extension of our time—purveyors of medical manifest destiny. I was confident a true understanding of humanity hinged on my education. What an astonishing machine, this Man creature! So intricate, so functionally efficient, so synergistic, the ultimate holistic wonder. And how very reasonable for such a pinnacle in the scheme of natural history to have insight regarding his mechanics, that he might tinker and prod, cut a bit here and there, a tincture of chemical now or again, polishing up the imperfections and peccadillos inherent in producing 6,000,000,000 copies of something, anything.