He shakes his head. "No, Constantine. No. These are symptoms. They are not what is wrong, they are what happens because of it. Greece is not broke, it is broken. The streets are full of spongers and the halls of power are full of cheats. Africans, Gypsies, Croatians. Bank of America, the Germans, the Chinese. Rapists of a nation as much as of women and boys! In one way or another it is the same. They set up shop, they create a problem, and then the only solution is to give them more money to make it go away! They are here to speculate, to grow rich through this crisis they have created and settled upon us. They will take everything we have that they covet, and we will be left behind when they begin to take off again. It is not migration, it is swarming. Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me! You break bread with them all the time!" Jaw jutting, inviting me to swing at him across the awful coffee. I swallow some instead. It’s still awful, but it tastes better than Cosmatos’s patriotic shit.