I Was Exposed To Violence While I

Most Of Those Who Spend Their Lives As Critics Secretly Wish They'd Be Considered Important Enough For Someone To Bother Criticizing Them.

I'm Still An Obsessive Personality, And I Still Think I'm Right, And I Still Believe My Literary Balls Hang Far Lower Than Nearly Anyone Else's Alive.

I Didn't See Much Besides Melbourne And A Quick Trip Down To The Twelve Apostles, But All The Aussies I Encountered Were Good-spirited And Had A Fine Sense Of Humor.

I Certainly Didn't Emerge From Prison Regretting Anything I Ever Wrote, Nor Did I Feel Remorse For My Crime In The Least.

Nowadays, You Suffer The Same Risks - Ostracism, Career Loss, Possible Assault - For Being Perceived As Racist That You Would Have Encountered A Century Ago For Daring To Question Racist Ideology.