Nothing can stop them. The gates of business schools yawn open every summer and disgorge new legions of MBAs, coming to make their bones in the valley. The rents and property values pierce the skies and reach the orbit of Saturn. Once a refuge for endangered creatures of all sizes, San Francisco is today a bleached coral reef. Fresh indentured slaves arrive from Uttar Pradesh by the planeload, clutching visas that evaporate at the mere frown of a supervisor. The roads back up to Vacaville. The crux, perhaps: the insanely great iHorror Apple-caused traffic snarl at 237 and 880 in Milpitas. This reliable jam is so dreadful that it cannot be described in the tongues of men, but only in the shrieks of an electrocuted cockatoo. And we learn, just as the Ohlones learned, as the ranchers learned, as the farmers learned after them: life in a boomtown can really suck.