So Long, Mom I'm Off To Drop

I Find Enough Mystery In Mathematics To Satisfy My Spiritual Needs. I Think, For Example, That Pi Is Mysterious Enough (don't Get Me Started!) Without Having To Worry About God. Or If Pi Isn't Enough, How About Fractals? Or Quantum Mechanics?

Speaking Of Love, One Problem That Recurs More And More Frequently These Days, In Books And Plays And Movies, Is The Inability Of People To Communicate With The People They Love: Husbands And Wives Who Can't Communicate, Children Who Can't Communicate With Their Parents, And So On. And The Characters In These Books And Plays And So On, And In Real Life, I Might Add, Spend Hours Bemoaning The Fact That They Can't Communicate. I Feel That If A Person Can't Communicate, The Very Least He Can Do Is To Shut Up!

Political Satire Became Obsolete When They Awarded Henry Kissinger The Nobel Peace Prize.

The Poor Folks Hate The Rich Folks, And The Rich Folks Hate The Poor Folks. All Of My Folks Hate All Of Your Folks, It's American As Apple Pie.

The Real Issues I Don't Think Most People Touch. The Clinton Jokes Are All About Monica Lewinsky And All That Stuff And Not About The Important Things, Like The Fact That He Wouldn't Ban Landmines...i'm Not Tempted To Write A Song About George W. Bush. I Couldn't Figure Out What Sort Of Song I Would Write. That's The Problem: I Don't Want To Satirize George Bush And His Puppeteers, I Want To Vaporize Them. And That's Not Funny....ok, Well, If I Say That, I Might Get A Shock Laugh, But It's Not Really Satire.