Anarchism? You Bet Your Sweet Betsy. The

There Comes A Point, In Literary Objectivity, When The Author's Self- Effacement Is Hard To Distinguish From Moral Cowardice.

One Day In Dipstick, Nebraska, Or Landfill, Oklahoma, Is Worth More To Me Than An Eternity In Dante's Plastic Paradiso, Or Yeats's Gold-plated Byzantium.

By The Age Of Eighteen, A Human Has Acquired Enough Joy And Heartache To Provide The Food Of Reflection For A Century.

The Idea Of Wilderness Needs No Defense, It Only Needs Defenders.

Anarchy Works. Italy Has Proved It For A Thousand Years.