He Was A Lovely Man In Many

Iconic Clothing Has Been Secularized. . . . A Guardsman In A Dress Uniform Is Ostensibly An Icon Of Aggression; His Coat Is Red As The Blood He Hopes To Shed. Seen On A Coat-hanger, With No Man Inside It, The Uniform Loses All Its Blustering Significance And, To The Innocent Eye Seduced By Decorative Colour And Tactile Braid, It Is As Abstract In Symbolic Information As A Parasol To An Eskimo. It Becomes Simply Magnificent.

Strangers Used To Gather Together At The Cinema And Sit Together In The Dark, Like Ancient Greeks Participating In The Mysteries, Dreaming The Same Dream In Unison.

To Pin Your Hopes Upon The Future Is To Consign Those Hopes To A Hypothesis, Which Is To Say, A Nothingness. Here And Now Is What We Must Contend With.

Mother Goddesses Are Just As Silly A Notion As Father Gods. If A Revival Of The Myths Of These Cults Gives Woman Emotional Satisfaction, It Does So At The Price Of Obscuring The Real Conditions Of Life. This Is Why They Were Invented In The First Place.

Irish Was A Man Of Parts Even If Some Of Them Didn't Work Too Well.