In hushed horror, I found myself humming an eminently unexciting nursery rhyme while reading about death, destruction, atrocities, insider trading, booming corruption and political intrigue in the newspapers. “Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping?/Brother John? Brother John?/Morning Bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing/Ding dong dong! Ding dong dong!” I hummed, not unlike a moron.