Since each of was several, there was already a crowd. Not feeling well and not feeling right in the head - cope, cope, cope, it’s no longer a world in which a safety net will stop, or slow, a descent into the abyss. A temporary gig for a paycheck with no strong indication to vouchsafe that another check will come anytime soon. White coats with clipboards, culling the damned from the redeemable, dispensing what multiples stages of clinical trials suggest is a necessary but not sufficient dosage of hope.

No, not hope, anything but the soft bigotry of an expectation that the historical x axis bends toward a particular ethical outcome at its opposite end.

(What a petulant, edge-limning puke of a person he is, descrying the idea of hope with a full stomach lying in a warm bed with four functioning limbs and a fetish for arguing as though mired in the bottom muck)

Each of us is broken, and on a breaking spree we might be set loose, despite the best of intentions. Somehow some with the worst of intentions as it relates to people can still give birth to something beautiful as it relates to painted pictures, just as the shy retiring introverts can dip their quills in blood and let fly with the most bilious of polemical screeds.

What would Harrison Bergeron say if slipped loose from the bells and the clanks and the equalizing handicaps and if permitted to on about his heroic, peerlessly untrodden path? What would it be like if more believed in the idea of Harrison Bergeron?

(What would it be like if not just the poor kids died in the wars? What would it be like if we hadn’t naturalized inequality and called it inefficiency?)

Don't forget just how indebted we still are to the Great Awakening with its brutal psychology of the preterite and the elect, and the unchosen. Keep getting held down in the riptide of the upswell of religious fervor and contagion that grew beyond all proportion and over all of the known boundaries. The sick and the hale, the young and old, all truck dumb with terror and fear of what spending hell in eternity or spending eternity in hell will be like.

Fate is that thing from which there is no possible earthly escape, and hell is that thing from which there is no possible escape, forever and ever all time.

No wonder the Indians found it all so fucking unfathomable.