Purveyors of fine sarcasm
There’s something quite beautiful about a derelict edifice, but there’s also something incredibly pathetic about a person who comes and tends to the weeds and patches up the odd bit of brickwork in the ruins, if you catch my meaning.
You have no justification for outrage. Outrage is a privilege not an entitlement. It is like 1951 Grange Hermitage. Or dental care. You can’t just have it; you must earn the right to enjoy it.