The record has become something of a popular event in London in these strange days, while a bemused populace tries on different styles of governance for size. The genealogy of the nation’s betrayal is almost a mania, the more so because the primary suspects must be those formerly most revered for their bravery and invention: the representatives of the System. The Desperation Protocol—it seems rude, almost, to call it a virus—has turned over the stones and revealed the squirming nest underneath. Speculation is rife across the Public Sphere—as it should be—as to the true identities of the players. Little by little, though, the sense of crisis is fading, as the twin businesses of living and deciding a way forward take precedence over the assignment of historical blame. It seems the first new Prime Minister—for the time being, anyway—may be a bookseller.