It just crossed my mind that I used to love in my youth the red star from China. It was bright red, and it was pointed. Nay, prickly. At the same time, I used to hate the red star from Yugoslavia. It was maroon, and it was blunted. Bloated, as a matter of fact. The latter I had to wear on my cap while I was in the Yugoslav army. The former I bought for a few cents in the States. I wore it with relish at both Harvard and MIT, of all places. This is where I proudly preached about socialist planning, among other things. After so many years, the Chinese star is still my favorite by far. It is a real star, not like the Yugoslav one, fake as it was at the very first glance. It is amazing how some passions linger after decades upon decades. And after all sorts of stars have long sunk into oblivion even in my own heart.