In an unfortunate way.  Import Third World people; get Third World problems.  An excerpt from “Foes and Rivals” below the fold.

“My wife was in Minneapolis when the Breakup started. Business trip.  All she had was credit cards and those weren’t working.  Worse, neither were the EBT cards…”

A pause.

“When she’d called me from the airport – God knows how she made it there – none of the planes were flying and all of them… they were all swarming…!”

He’d lowered his head in some kind of cough. Nichole carefully put her right hand onto his left shoulder.

“The Somalis… by then about twenty percent of the city, were taking everything, killing everyone in their way, led by the ones in the police…!”

He turned, not to Nichole but to his screen.

“She… she was screaming that the food was gone and they were eating people. I – ” He spat bile onto the floor.  “I thought that was just sci-fi… it could never happen here.  I’ve voted progressive my whole life, for a diverse, equitable future…”

He started to cry.

His head dropped into his hands.

“They killed my wife!” A breath.  “They Killed My Wife!”