It's Music Rage, Which Is Like Road

Complaining About Boring Football Is A Little Like Complaining About The Sad Ending Of King Lear: It Misses The Point Somehow.

Books Are, Let's Face It, Better Than Everything Else. If We Played Cultural Fantasy Boxing League, And Made Books Go Fifteen Rounds In The Ring Against The Best That Any Other Art Form Had To Offer, Then Books Would Win Pretty Much Every Time.

What Came First – The Music Or The Misery? Did I Listen To The Music Because I Was Miserable? Or Was I Miserable Because I Listened To The Music? Do All Those Records Turn You Into A Melancholy Person?

I Don't Want Anyone Writing In To Point Out That I Spend Too Much Money On Books, Many Of Which I Will Never Read. I Know That Already. I Certainly Intend To Read All Of Them, More Or Less. My Intentions Are Good. Anyway, It's My Money. And I'll Bet You Do It Too.

I Had Forgotten That Jess Felt About Long Words The Way That Racists Feel About Black People: She Hated Them, And Wanted To Send Them Back From Where They Came From.