I Do Not Like The Way People

The Whole Plan Hinged Upon The Natural Curiosity Of Potatoes.

The Horse Respects And Obeys Man Because Its Large Eyes Magnify Everything, So Man Appears Much Larger Than The Horse Itself.

This Is Another Lie. We Are Only Seeking Man. We Have No Need Of Other Worlds. A Single World, Our Own, Suffices Us; But We Can't Accept It For What It Is. We Are Searching For An Ideal Image Of Our Own World: We Go In Quest Of A Planet, A Civilization Superior To Our Own But Developed On The Basis Of A Prototype Of Our Primeval Past.

So One Must Be Resigned To Being A Clock That Measures The Passage Of Time, Now Out Of Order, Now Repaired, And Whose Mechanism Generates Despair And Love As Soon As Its Maker Sets It Going? Are We To Grow Used To The Idea That Every Man Relives Ancient Torments, Which Are All The More Profound Because They Grow Comic With Repetition? That Human Existence Should Repeat Itself, Well And Good, But That It Should Repeat Itself Like A Hackneyed Tune, Or A Record A Drunkard Keeps Playing As He Feeds Coins Into The Jukebox.

Science Is Turning Into A Monastery For The Order Of Capitulant Friars. Logical Calculus Is Supposed To Supersede Man As Moralist. We Submit To The Blackmail Of The 'superior Knowledge' That Has The Temerity To Assert That Nuclear War Can Be, By Derivation, A Good Thing, Because This Follows From Simple Arithmetic.