Rumor And Gossip, Like Sound Itself, Appear

As A General Rule, Fans And Idols Should Always Be Kept At Arm's Length, The Length Of The Arm To Be Proportionate To The Degree Of Sheer Idolatry Involved. Don't Take A Beatle To Lunch. Don't Wait Up To See If The Easter Bunny Is Real. Just Enjoy The Egg Hunt.

Rome's Riches Are In Too Immediate Juxtaposition. Under The Lid Of Awful August Heat, One Moves Dizzily From Church To Palace To Fountain To Ruin, A Single Fly At A Banquet, Not Knowing Where To Light.

Natural Villains Are Hard To Come By, What With All The Shrinks And Social-scientist Types Threatening To Understand Everybody Into The Ground.

Between The Two Poles Of Whole-truth And Half-truth Is Slung The Chancy Hammock In Which We All Rock.

At Gatling-gun Tempo Word-perfect The First Time Out. The Journalistic Equivalent Of A High-wire Front Somersault Without A Net.