I have a confession to make. I do not believe that Barack Obama is a bloodsucking, shapeshifting Reptilian alien; I don't even think he's a very bad man necessarily--a tad self-regarding, obviously; schoolmarmish; disapproving; but also probably a pretty decent dad and husband, a fellow who, but for a slight overabundance of ambition and a few luck shakes of the Fatal snowglobe would be the second-most-popular law prof at U Chicago. You see, what I'm saying is that nothing about Barack Obama inclines him to kill a whole lot of fucking people . . . nothing inherent, anyway; nothing intrinsic to his character; nothing ineluctable in his soul. But he does it anyway. It does not require a mad-dog megalomaniacal pseudohereditary dictator backed by a military junta to kill a lot of innocent people, and, hell, even al-Assad, you know, but for the peculiar turning of fortune, he might yet be just another tacky foreign millionaire living in louche London expatriacy, keeping several mistresses and a skinny British wife who works for World of Interiors. What I am saying is that the state makes these men; or, it feeds upon them. Their brains are corrupted and plugged into the war machine. And, on the other hand, this is likewise one reason I think the idea that the first thing everyone will do after the oil runs out or after the nuclear war or after the rising seas crack open the old system of states is form themselves into atavistic and avaricious affinity groups and reconsitute all this shit all over again; like, um, it took ten thousand years of particular history to get from tilled fields to unmanned drones; why assume it is inevitable, instinctual, inescapable? Might it not be, like like itself, the ungainly result of a whole series of accidents?