The aubergine migrants cold against the white Scottish winter. On lowland island surrounded by sea, seeking asylum; yearning to be free. If only the pangean supercontinent still existed then those fleeing war could simply walk to Times Square. There they could coagulate into the twisted bosom of capitalism. Where the greedy ghost of Adam Smith is worshiped at every chance. Profit justifies the most deplorable and despicable behavior. Forget all past suffering while all waking hours are engaged in surviving a laborious rat race. A maze of competitive madness without tradition or honor. Human conflict and desperation fuel all passage, most at perilous costs. The toll paid is always more than expected and rarely without regret.