A year ago, I was yelling at the NYT to stop what with the – This Might Happen – scenario, and why couldn’t institutions become cognizant that this was happening while it was happening. Waiting to see what might happen seemed totally and utterly irresponsible. But institutions (like the media) are slow to comprehend. They were above the fray, and the great unwashed masses who knew nothing. I think they knew something was up. I think they intuit that the Democratic Party Hearty is old and dying. Yet they do not really deep down believe it. It is too late to change minds. Approval ratings are rubbish. Those of us who could see it coming said so. To remain a democrat or not to be a democrat. “Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To die—to sleep…” Opinion is protected speech. A sea of troubles, and not focus on one sad little man. There is no government. All of this is death. Who is going to pay for all the suffering. In the parliamentary system, we can kick them out like, that day. How do you hide the reality of masked gunmen on your streets unless you have surrendered to the idea that we are powerless victims who do not know how to stand on our little mouse feet. Individuals have no other choice. I am gutless. I take the position that my writing life can be oppositional. I rationalize, knowing full well, they won the war. “To grunt and sweat under a weary life. But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovere’d country…”