Bob JamiesonHarry's Last Stand
We Became the Fascists Our Grandparents Fought
"Frost was forecast, but it didn’t arrive in the early hours.
Still, the nights are cold enough that I’ve recently seen the homeless at dusk searching for firewood on a patch of abandoned industrial scrubland near my apartment.
Austerity has turned autumn into a threadbare season. The economy strains under the corruption and greed of the entitled"
