Louis then. They flew him to Los Angeles. They flew him to Memphis in Tennessee. To put out the fires. To end the violent striving. A witches’ Pentecost had begun—a fury of flame and madness. Who could explain it? No one. Everyone. A swarm of pictures and choices had come as a plague upon the people. Too many pictures for the eye to behold, too many choices for the mind to consider. Like locusts swarming, the million-pictured choices came in the hot July night. America could not stand it. America said, Let us have the quick and the simple. A clear resolving of intricate difficulties. A clean release from the intolerable tension. A way of saying yes. A way of saying no. Something silver-certain.
