The Curse Of Me And My Nation

Adolf Hitler Was A Jeanne D'arc, A Saint. He Was A Martyr. Like Many Martyrs, He Held Extreme Views.

And New York Is The Most Beautiful City In The World? It Is Not Far From It. No Urban Night Is Like The Night There... Squares After Squares Of Flame, Set Up And Cut Into The Aether. Here Is Our Poetry, For We Have Pulled Down The Stars To Our Will.

The Author's Conviction On This Day Of New Year Is That Music Begins To Atrophy When It Departs Too Far From The Dance; That Poetry Begins To Atrophy When It Gets Too Far From Music; But This Must Not Be Taken As Implying That All Good Music Is Dance Music Or All Poetry Lyric. Bach And Mozart Are Never Too Far From Physical Movement.

If A Man Isn't Willing To Take Some Risk For His Opinions, Either His Opinions Are No Good Or He's No Good.

There Is No Topicmore Soporific And Generally Boring Than The Topic Of Ireland As Ireland, As A Nation.