Solzhenitsyn writes about actual criminals, who often were mixed in with political prisoners while in transit to a camp. It reminded me of how things are humming along over here. >>To them prison is *their native home*. No matter how fondly the government treats them, no matter how it softens their punishments, no matter how often it amnesties them, their inner destiny brings them back again and again. Was not the first word in the legislation of the Archipelago for them? In our country, the right to own private property was at one time just as effectively banished out *in freedom* too. (And then those who had banished it began to enjoy *possessing* things.)