Beneath the Dome

THE DOME Before the Dome, the country was strong. Not in slogans or

flags snapping across screens, but in the quiet mechanics of daily life.

Morning traffic moved with purpose. Factories hummed. Neighborhoods argued, laughed,

repaired themselves. Power still had a face. You could hear it speak,

watch it hesitate, feel it respond when challenged. The world felt grounded. And because it felt

grounded, no one noticed when it began to tilt. The change did not arrive as a crisis.

It arrived as convenience. In the early 2000s, power learned to lower its voice. It stopped standing

at podiums and began moving through corridors—investment boards, advisory panels, philanthropic foundations