A party should never be like that.
It should be like this:
Take an inspired setting. The lawns of a large house in a wealthy country, and the time: the start of a successful decade in a risky and intriguing century. There is a host with a pretty wife, but his arms are around the even prettier daughter of his principal guest, the President of the World Bank. He is dancing or telling jokes, possibly both. When he winks there is general applause, for he is certainly the most popular man on the planet, or at least in this hemisphere, which is mostly ocean, sherry and japes.
There are no clouds here, but plenty of storms above the dwellings of his neighbours, all shut tight, doors and mouths. None of them have been invited, so this is almost a perfect celebration of his promotion, long overd
