If We Were Not Called Upon To

It Is Language Which Speaks In Literature, In All Its Swarming 'polysemic' Plurality, Not The Author Himself.

[f]or The Most Part Football These Days Is The Opium Of The People, Not To Speak Of Their Crack Cocaine. Its Icon Is The Impeccably Tory, Slavishly Conformist Beckham. The Reds Are No Longer The Bolsheviks. Nobody Serious About Political Change Can Shirk The Fact That The Game Has To Be Abolished. And Any Political Outfit That Tried It On Would Have About As Much Chance Of Power As The Chief Executive Of Bp Has In Taking Over From Oprah Winfrey.

Evil Is Often Supposed To Be Without Rhyme Or Reason.

Capitalism Will Behave Antisocially If It Is Profitable For It To Do So, And That Can Now Mean Human Devastation On An Unimaginable Scale. What Used To Be Apocalyptic Fantasy Is Today No More Than Sober Realism.

There Seems To Be Something In Humanity Which Will Not Bow Meekly To The Insolence Of Power.