Stupidity Has A Price And It Always

Pain Is An Interesting And Off-putting Thing. Few If Any Things In Life Concentrate Our Attention So Completely And Terribly, And Few Things Are More Boring To Listen To Or Read About.

Gass Once Wrote: "language Serves Not Only To Express Thought But To Make Possible Thoughts Which Could Not Exist Without It." Here Is The Essence Of Mankind's Creative Genius: Not The Edifices Of Civilization Nor The Bang-flash Weapons Which Can End It, But The Words Which Fertilize New Concepts Like Spermatozoa Attacking An Ovum. It Might Be Argued That The Siamese Twin Infants Of Word/idea Are The Only Contribution The Human Species Can, Will, Or Should Make To The Raveling Cosmos.

The Beauty Of That June Day Was Almost Staggering. After The Wet Spring, Everything That Could Turn Green Had Outdone Itself In Greenness And Everything That Could Even Dream Of Blooming Or Blossoming Was In Bloom And Blossom. The Sunlight Was A Benediction. The Breezes Were So Caressingly Soft And Intimate On The Skin As To Be Embarrassing.

I Think All The Simple Things Can And Do Still Work - Holding Your Child's Hand While Walking Across The Street Will Do It. But We Can Hardly Hear It For All The Noise Which Has Turned Love Into A Cliche, And Most People Can't Even Hear John Lennon's "all You Need Is Love" Anymore Without Wincing.

Pain And Darkness Have Been Our Lot Since The Fall Of Man. But There Must Be Some Hope That We Can Rise To A Higher Level ... That Consciousness Can Evolve To A Plane More Benevolent Than Its Counterpoint Of A Universe Hardwired To Indifference.