Our National Flower Is The Concrete Cloverleaf.

When Art Seems To Be Empty Of Meaning, As No Doubt Some Of The Abstract Painting Of Our Own Day Actually Does Seem, What The Painting Says, Indeed What The Artist Is Shrieking At The Top Of His Voice, Is That Life Has Become Empty Of All Rational Content And Coherence, And That, In Times Like These, Is Far From A Meaningless Statement.

The Timelessness Of Art Is Its Capacity To Represent The Transformation Of Endless Becoming Into Being.

Unfortunately, Once An Economy Is Geared To Expansion, The Means Rapidly Turn Into An End And "the Going Becomes The Goal." Even More Unfortunately, The Industries That Are Favored By Such Expansion Must, To Maintain Their Output, Be Devoted To Goods That Are Readily Consumable Either By Their Nature, Or Because They Are So Shoddily Fabricated That They Must Soon Be Replaced. By Fashion And Built-in Obsolescence The Economies Of Machine Production, Instead Of Producing Leisure And Durable Wealth, Are Duly Cancelled Out By The Mandatory Consumption On An Even Larger Scale.

Traditionalists Are Pessimists About The Future And Optimists About The Past.

This Metropolitan World, Then, Is A World Where Flesh And Blood Is Less Real Than Paper And Ink And Celluloid.