PS: On Triage, "The Postman" was Fred Ikle, Thomas Ferguson, Herman Kahn—the "post" man, the After-man, on an earth untrammeled by humanity. Dreamers, all, busy bees, tireless bureaucracies.

There is a scene in the film Executive Action, about 28 minutes into the film, at https://youtu.be/26kdpzWdj4M?t=1734 in which the screenwriter Dalton Trumbo captures the type admirably, or rather the type's employer. In this scene, power magnate Robert Ryan explains to topflight assassination maven Burt Lancaster that 550 million is the magic number of humans on this Earth, and makes what he thinks is an irrefutable case that brown people must, for the benefit of what Mr Ryan's character clearly considers the whole of humanity (the white part) be sacrificed to his glorious vision. 

Later in the film Ryan recites poetry and arranges for the murder of Lancaster's character.

It was the overwhelming sense that the Kissingers and Ikles of the world had already won, that the war was all over but for the shooting, that made it impossible for me to continue as a functional pop bobblehead in any but the most perfunctory ways, aka anonymous staff, and caused me to make Triage. 

A song I never recorded from that time (think Irish waltz)

January rolls like a tank into June, leaves a smell there of fear and dust. And immigrants cry from the city outside, and nobody knows who to trust. And people are nervous, the lies are as thick as the smell of burning hair. And an underground river of hate builds in force and madness is in the air. So stand by your loved ones steady, as we enter the vortex of lies, and raise a glass for the dead and the blood that they shed and a glass for those yet to die.

I believe in hope. But people fight best when they have already embraced their own death, and we have got one hell of a fight headed our way.