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I MUST confess to a sin, although among NATIONAL REVIEW readers it is probably more like a heresy: I have been, as recently as this year, a ward of the welfare state.
It wasn't my fault. I slipped onto the dole without even realizing it, and I am happy to report that the experience had a reforming effect. That is, it convinced me once and for all that "public assistance" is a generally rotten idea, encouraging people to do generally rotten things.
There is, in Manhattan, a neighborhood called Inwood, and until recently it was my misfortune to live there. Inwood is the northernmost tip of the island, a stone's throw from Albany and a quick stroll to the ...