It Takes Only One Child To Raze

The American Woman's Concept Of Marriage Is A Clearly Etched Picture Of Something Uninflated On The Floor. A Sleeping-bag Withoutair, A Beanbag Without Beans, A Padded Bra Without Pads. To Work On It, You Start Pumping--what The Magazines Call "breathing Life Into Your Marriage." Do Enough Of This And The Marriage Becomes A Kind Of Banquo's Ghost, A Quasi-living Entity.

The Copyeditor I Drew Was A Brachycephalic, Web-footed Cretin Who Should Have Been In An Institution Learning How To Make Brooms.

As The Only Class Distinction Available In A Democracy, The College Degree Has Created A Caste Society As Rigid As Ancient India's. Condemning Elitism And Simultaneously Quaking In Fear That Our Children Won't Become Members Of The Elite, We Send Them To College, Not To Learn, But To "be" College Graduates, Rationalizing Our Snobbery With The Cliché That High Technology Has Eliminated The Need For The Manual Labor That We Secretly Hold In Contempt.

The Confidence And Security Of A People Can Be Measured By Their Attitude Toward Laxatives. At The High Noon Of The British Sun, Soldiers In Far-flung Outposts Of The Empire Doctored Themselves With "a Spoonful O' Gunpowder In A Cuppa 'ot Tea." Purveyors And Users Of Harsh Laxatives Were Not Afraid Of Being Thought Mean And Unfriendly Just Because Their Laxatives Were. But In America, The Need To Be Nice Is So Consuming That Nobody Would Dare Take A Laxative That Makes You Run Up The Stairs Two At A Time, Pushing Others Aside And Yelling, "get Out Of The Way!

There's No National Glue Holding Us Together Because Somebody Put Too Much Pluribus In The Unum.