I Don't Intend To Simply Go Away

It Was Difficult Being A Conscientious Objector In The 1940's, But I Felt I Had To Stick To My Guns.

When You Lead A Life Of Scholarship You Can't Be Bothered With The Humorous Realities, You Know, Tits, That Kind Of Thing.

Do The Structures Of Language And The Structures Of Reality (by Which I Mean What Actually Happens) Move Along Parallel Lines? Does Reality Essentially Remain Outside Language, Separate, Obdurate, Alien, Not Susceptible To Description? Is An Accurate And Vital Correspondence Between What Is And Our Perception Of It Impossible? Or Is It That We Are Obliged To Use Language Only In Order To Obscure And Distort Reality -- To Distort What Happens -- Because We Fear It?

The Speech We Hear Is An Indication Of That Which We Don't Hear. It Is A Necessary Avoidance, A Violent, Sly, And Anguished Or Mocking Smoke Screen Which Keeps The Other In Its True Place. When True Silence Falls We Are Left With Echo But Are Nearer Nakedness. One Way Of Looking At Speech Is To Say That It Is A Constant Stratagem To Cover Nakedness.

How Can The Unknown Merit Reverence?