Life's Scientific, But We Don't Know, Do

We Have A Disharmony In Our Natures. We Cannot Live Together Without Injuring Each Other.

Marx, Darwin And Freud Are The Three Most Crashing Bores Of The Western World. Simplistic Popularization Of Their Ideas Has Thrust Our World Into A Mental Straitjacket From Which We Can Only Escape By The Most Anarchic Violence.

I've Come Across A Novel Called The Palm-wine Drinkard, By The Nigerian Writer Amos Tutuola, That Is Really Remarkable Because It Is A Kind Of Fantasy Of West African Mythology All Told In West African English Which, Of Course, Is Not The Same As Standard English.

Experimental Novels Are Sometimes Terribly Clever And Very Seldom Read. But The Story That Appeals To The Child Sitting On Your Knee Is The One That Satisfies The Curiosity We All Have About What Happened Then, And Then, And Then. This Is The Final Restriction Put On The Technique Of Telling A Story. A Basic Thing Called Story Is Built Into The Human Condition. It's What We Are; It's Something To Which We React.

Even If You Got Rid Of Paper, You Would Still Have Story-tellers. In Fact, You Had The Story-tellers Before You Had The Paper.