I see bums.
On warm evenings in Los Angeles, when the breeze is still, a specific, sharp scent can be detected. It is the smell of acetone—a fruity, chemical odor that signals a body burning its own fat for fuel. Everybody knows it is a symptom of alcoholism, a grim indicator of a body in decline. Today, the physiological process has been packaged. It is the "success breath" of a booming medical industry, a scent worn by the affluent as a badge of metabolic control. The chemistry is identical. It is a body in ketosis. The divergence is not biological; it is economic. Walk through any major American city, and a pattern emerges that defies the stereotypes of poverty. Notice, the homeless fringe is almost never obese. If you see someone who is overweight on the streets, they are likely new to the situation, their body still holding onto the reserves of a life before the crash. Why is this? Is it a moral failure? A lack of willpower? The answer is a cold, hard calculation of survival economi...