We Deny That It Is Fun To

The Rich Man Has His Motorcar, His Country And His Town Estate, He Smokes A Fifty-cent Cigar And Jeers At Fate. He Frivols Through The Livelong Day, He Knows Not Poverty, Her Pinch. His Lot Seems Light, His Heart Seems Gay; He Has A Cinch. Yet Though My Lamp Burns Low And Dim, Though I Must Slave For Livelihood- Think You That I Would Change With Him? You Bet I Would!

Nobody Can Write Such Ironic Things Unless He Has A Deep Sense Of Injustice-injustice To Those Members Of The Race Who Are Victims Of The Stupid, The Pretentious And The Hypocritical.

As We See Censorship It Is A Stupid Giant Traffic Policeman Answering "yes" To "am I My Brother's Copper?" He Guards A One-way Street And His Semaphore Has Four Signs, All Marked "stop.

Drinking Is Bad Taste But Tastes Good.

Count The Day Won, When The Earth, Turning On Its Axis, Imposes No Additional Taxes