I appreciate the perception that I am a mere nihilist. Politically, I am. Yet I find myself, generally, much happier than my more politically earnest acquaintances, for whom the vast, inhuman movement of history and their own insignificance in the face of it necessitate a life-skein of endless disappointments and let-downs. Me, instead of contributing to some asshole’s brand-name political campaign, I’ll spend a hundred bucks on booze. A good Beaune-Village is worth a thousand Obamas. The smell of baking bread is better than the vote.