Perhaps it is not surprising that at such moments we belch up the most hideous instincts, whose seedlings have been watered by paranoid barbarism so attentively over the course of the past six years. So too, I seek to understand why, in that initial tumult of rapture, food and care do not find their way to the lame. The bedridden are now even more abandoned and the dying are dropping dead even more pitifully than yesterday. And yet the storeroom pillagers are up to their knees in sugar, potatoes, and canned goods.
