There once was a Frenchman, a pied-noir. He was the hero of establishment skeptics. With no regard for the dead, for marriage, for religion, his morality was simply speaking his mind. One day, he killed an Arab. He did it because of the ubiquitous glare of the blinding sun. The world puzzled over him. Newspapers obsessively printed his story. With no remorse in his heart, his ethics were only straight talk and the indulgence of momentary passions. He called this honesty. All