A hundred years ago, William Butler Yeats wrote an apocalyptic poem with the haunting lines: “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold…The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” It was 1919 and there was, like today, a raging pandemic. Yeats’ pregnant wife caught the virus and nearly died. World War I had left all of Europe exhausted, depleted, and in economic ruin. Meanwhile, in Yeats’ Ireland the rebellion against British oppression had turned violent.