All My Big Heroes Are Literary, Writers.

I Have Come To Regard November As The Older, Harder Man's October. I Appreciate The Early Darkness And Cooler Temperatures. It Puts My Mind In A Different Place Than October. It Is A Month For A Quieter, Slightly More Subdued Celebration Of Summer's Death As Winter Tightens Its Grip.

We City Dwellers, We Residents Of Los Angeles And The Surrounding Areas, Are For The Most Part Urbanized To Some Extent. We Know Deadlines, Start Times And Traffic.

If Some Band Sucks, You're Going To Have To Find Out About It For Yourself, Because I Don't Have The Interest In Issuing Warnings.

What If Americans Were All Judged By The Actions Of The Bush Administration And People Did Not Know The Truth? That America Is Full Of People Who Are, At Present, Poorly Represented And Poorly Catered To By The Media.

It's Not Lost On Me That Everyone Dies, But Some People Have A Kind Of Immortality About Them, And You Can't Imagine That They Will Ever Be Gone.