I feel that the world is racing away from me. More and more lately, whatever happens seems random, perhaps maliciously so. There is a lack of charity in the air, generally. It feels as if people are stockpiling in the basement. They are strategically reevaluating their commitments, pulling back in areas where they are vulnerable, where they suffer from exposure. "As I write this we are on the eve of war"—how boring. What is relevant for me in the situation is this: nothing I have done in the last ten years, nothing, has contributed in the slightest to preventing or even delaying this moment. I've been asleep at the wheel, so have the rest of us, and here we are: war. Will our car hit the wall, or is the wall made of paper, like in the old cartoons? We don't know, but we'll find out when we hit.