I'm Very Militant, You Know, In A

The Town Is An Advertisement For Itself; None Of Its Charms Are Left To The Visitor's Imagination.

But Now Isn’t Simply Now. Now Is Also A Cold Reminder: One Whole Day Later Than Yesterday, One Year Later Than Last Year. Every Now Is Labeled With Its Date, Rendering All Past Nows Obsolete, Until — Later Of Sooner — Perhaps — No, Not Perhaps — Quite Certainly: It Will Come.

In The Eternal Lazy Morning Of The Pacific, Days Slip Away Into Months, Months Into Years; The Seasons Are Reduced To The Faintest Nuance By The Great Central Fact Of The Sunshine; One Might Pass A Lifetime, It Seems, Between Two Yawns, Lying Bronzed And Naked In The Sand.

Waking Up Begins With Saying Am And Now. That Which Has Awoken Then Lies For A While Staring Up At The Ceiling And Down Into Itself Until It Has Recognized I, And Therefrom Deduced I Am, I Am Now. Here Comes Next, And Is At Least Negatively Reassuring; Because Here, This Morning, Is Where It Has Expected To Find Itself: What’s Called At Home.

In Ten Minutes They Will Have Arrived On Campus. George Will Have To Be George; The George They Have Named And Will Recognise. So Now He Consciously Applies Himself To Thinking Their Thoughts, Getting Into Their Mood. With The Skill Of A Veteran, He Rapidly Puts On The Psychological Makeup For This Role He Must Play.