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288 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2007
. . . very few tears were shed for the anonymous blind man. The locals didn’t have room in their souls for someone else’s misfortune. Vientiane had a certain mood about it these days. The government was starting to look like a depressingly unloved relative who’d come to visit for the weekend and stayed for two years.
He recalled a quotation from the Communist Manifesto: “All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and men at last are forced to face with sober senses the real conditions of their lives and their relations with their fellow men.�
“The government that should have learned from the mistakes of all the fools who ran the country before it. Instead, we’ve just given a new twist to inefficiency, made it more creative. . .The people are suffering no less than they always were. . . I’d go home after each of our philosophical sessions, with the firm belief that what we’ve created is a joke. There were nights I’d lock myself in the bathroom and cry my eyes out because I was part of that joke. My name was up there on the party roster and I hadn’t done a thing to change the status quo.�