To Know What You Want To Say

We Are Close To Dead. There Are Faces And Bodies Like Gorged Maggots On The Dance Floor, On The Highway, In The City, In The Stadium; They Are A Host Of Chemical Machines Who Swallow The Product Of Chemical Factories, Aspirin, Preservatives, Stimulant, Relaxant, And Breathe Out Their Chemical Wastes Into A Polluted Air. The Sense Of A Long Last Night Over Civilization Is Back Again.

It All Comes Down To Who Does The Dishes.

Short-term Amnesia Is Not The Worst Affliction If You Have An Irish Flair For The Sauce.

The Final Purpose Of Art Is To Intensify, Even, If Necessary, To Exacerbate, The Moral Consciousness Of People.

As Kierkegaard Was The First To Suggest, We Can Never Know Where Our Prayers Are Likely To Go Nor From Whom The Answers Will Come. When We Think We Are Nearest To God, We Could Be Assisting The Devil.