I Live A Sensible Life. You Know,

The Idea That Hunting Is One Against One Is Ludicrous. It's One Animal Versus The Hunter, The Manufacturer Of The Rifle, The Bullet Maker, The Designer And Manufacturer Of The Telescopic Sight, The Auto Manufacturer Who Made The Car The Hunter Got To The Edge Of The Wild In, The Maker Of His Waterproof Shoes, The Various Manufacturers Of His Mittens, Glasses, Overcoat - And That's Only The Beginning Of The List. The "sportsman" Who Shoots An Animal Should Then Make A Speech, Like The Actor Who Wins An Oscar Does, Thanking The Multitudes Behind The Scenes Who Made This "victory" Possible.

I Haven't Ever Found Any Great Writing On That Wonderful And Often Unappreciated Art Form, The Insult.

The Mob Became Unruly And The Police Were Forced To Resort To Sex.

Meryl Streep Belongs On Anybody's List Of Greats.

I'm Sure I've All But Lost Friends By Maintaining That, Despite Their Love For It, I Always Saw Stanley Kramer's 'it's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World' As More Of An Exercise In Anti-comedy Than Humor.