Outside there are cars passing—trucks and bicycles and pedestrians too—but we’re all too consumed by this problem to hear them. This problem has creeped its way up from the center of the Earth. It has slithered its way through the burning magma, layers of rock and dirt, into our sewage system, emerging through the gutters, along the sidewalks, into our homes, burrowed its way through our ears or nostrils and now rests in some dark corner of our minds. It’s pitched a tent and has no plans to leave. The worst part is, we know there’s a solution.  So we can’t just ignore it and get on with our lives. So it sticks there and makes us unable to move or think or love our children or have sex with our wives (or husbands). It castrates us and leaves us curled up waiting for the answer to come. And maybe someday it will…