It is getting crusty out there, in America.
Across the country, practically every gas station and convenience store, every prominent intersection and some less prominent ones, every entertainment-and-nightlife district, every bus stop, every other Starbucks, the drive-thru line at Wendy’s, and, at times, the front porches of homeowners have been converted into a 1970s-Calcutta-style gauntlet of beggars, some hungry and half-mad, many of them bombed out of their minds and dangerous, and a surprising number of them clocking $100 an hour just for putting their hands out. Partly driven by genuine economic crisis during the COVID-19 lockdowns and partly driven by …
This article appears as “Don’t Feed The Bears” in the September 1, 2021, print edition of National Review.
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