Maybe New York Shouldn't Survive. Maybe It

We Don't Owe The Blacks A Damn Thing, Anyway.

I Reject The Cynical View That Politics Is A Dirty Business.

Most Days I Feel Like The Sole Survivor Of A Shipwreck, Rowing My Paddleboat Across A Sea Of People On Waves Made Of An Infinite Array Of Hands And Crests That Reveal Anonymous Faces. On A Good Day, The Clouds Part To Alight On-lo And Behold-an Island! I Step Ashore, Only Find That It Too Is Made Of People, Mangled Bodies Somehow Still Alive. They Grab At My Feet, Pulling Me Under Like Quicksand. The Last Thing I See Before Suffocating Is The Sky, A Billion Eyes Staring Down, Blinking In Undulating Electric Ripples. The Cold Rain I Feel On My Cheeks Is The Tears Of The People.

The Easiest Period In A Crisis Situation Is Actually The Battle Itself. The Most Difficult Is The Period Of Indecision - Whether To Fight Or Run Away. And The Most Dangerous Period Is The Aftermath. It Is Then, With All His Resources Spent And His Guard Down, That An Individual Must Watch Out For Dulled Reactions And Faulty Judgment.

The Bohemian Grove, Which I Attend From Time To Time - It Is The Most Faggy Goddamned Thing You Could Ever Imagine.