tongue-tied principle, New Orleans’ suburbs would be built government welfare program, quietly working out thento resemble Boston’s suburbs, to resemble Tucson’s suburbs, perverse logic of the great New Deal experiment in statento resemble Minneapolis’ suburbs, in the imperative federal capitalism, launched sixty years ago.nquest for homogenization and harmony. Clear-eyed now, the experience leaves me unnerved. IfnAt the end of my withdrawal, I concluded that federal housing policy, with all its promise, has proven to be sociallynhousing policy had become a noxious, even despotic tool, destructive on a scale such as this, what can one say aboutnNot only did it suppress family autonomy, subvert real Aid to Families with Dependent Children, food stamps,ncommunities, and assault regional vitality, but it also worked school aid, Medicaid, Social Security, or any of the huntoncorrupt the morals of the citizenry and to encourage dreds of lesser known federal programs also promisingnfamily breakup. In turn, federal housing policy helped to “comfort and aid” to the citizenry? Simply this: in everynspawn the social pathologies — teenage pregnancy, juvenile case, the result of federal activism has been to diminishncrime, substance abuse, long-term dependency, educational household integrity and to increase personal dependence onnfailure — that now degrade our once-sheltered suburbs, as Uncle Sam. It is not true, as conservative critics of thenwell as our cities. (Feeling charitable at the moment, I won’t federal enterprise often charge, that “nothing works.” Inndiscuss here the important role also played by housing fact, virtually everything works to undermine the governmythologynin creating the fiscal debacle known as the ment’s principle rival, the family, and to create a populationnSavings and Loan crisis.) In short, I found the federal of isolated, ignorant, and dependent sheep,nhousing agenda to be merely another, fairly run-of-the-mill • <^nHorace II, xivnby Jack Flavinn”Eheu fugdces, Postume, Postume …”nAh, Postumus, Postumus, the fleeting yearsnSlip by and no virtue of ours can forestall nOnrushing age’s wrinkles and gray hairs.nOr put off death, who is the lord of all.nNo, my friend, not if you were to sacrificenA bull a day. Hecatombs would not sufficenPluto, that pitiless guardiannOf the monster, three-bodied Geryon,nAnd giant Tityus beyond the sad streamnWhich all of us who feed upon earth’s largesse.nKings and poor peasants, must surely cross.nWe escape bloody wars in vain, it seems.nSurvive breakers in the Adriatic stormnAnd keep ourselves safe from the sirocco’s harmnDuring Equinox. It’s all in vain.nIn the end, black Cocytus must be seennBy all, winding in its sluggish stream through Hell,nWhere the accursed daughters of Danaiis dwellnAnd Sisyphus in his eternalnToil. Earth must be forsaken by us all.nHome and one’s dear spouse. Trees you cultivatednWon’t follow you, their short-lived master. HatednCypresses alone go with you too.nAnd some heir who is worthier than younWill soon be guzzling your choice Caecuban wine.nThe vintage you’ve hoarded under lock and keyn(Fit for pontiff’s’ feasts, it is so fine!)nHe’ll dribble on the floor and parquetry.nnnFEBRUARY 1992/17n