Surrounded by the enemy; I smell the Patuly, hear the clomp of the Birkenstocks, and I can see the angst of helpless Social Science graduates looking for Jobs, eating bries, holding signs that proclaim a call to action: "International Composting NOW!!!" I shudder to think what would happen if they only new, behind the shades, that the glow of my computer isn't porn. It's Free Republic.