The lady in front of me on this flight is watching a truly infohazardous documentary on her phone about some mom whose teenage daughter got pulled into an online trafficking ring—one of those extremely rare and awful “stereotypical” predator stories that keeps parents up at night because it’s just so vivid and horrible. Have been mentally playing the Jason Isbell song “Save the World” for about an hour, that awkward guitar riff perhaps a picture of our own powerlessness over the inevitable march of time. Pedo documentary lady reminds me that I am not the only one despairing, as if that’s any comfort.