What If I Left My Memory In

There's One Hole In Every Revolution, Large Or Small. And It's One Word Long— People. No Matter How Big The Idea They All Stand Under, People Are Small And Weak And Cheap And Frightened. It's People That Kill Every Revolution.

Be Authentic To Your Dreams. Be Authentic To Your Own Idea About Yourself. Grind Away At Your Own Minds And Bodies Until You Become Your Own Invention. Be Mad Scientists.

He Was In Blue Jeans And A Work Shirt, Which Is Another Weird Quirk Of Rich Old Men. Just One Of The Guys Here. Blue Jeans And A Work Shirt, Salt Of The Earth, Working Man Like Yourself. Like They're Somehow Uncomfortable About Being Rich Enough To Sleep In A Bed Made Of Vaginas Being Pulled Around The Town At Night By A Fleet Of Gold-covered Midgets.

There Was A Time When I Liked A Good Riot. Put On Some Heavy Old Street Clothes That Could Stand A Bit Of Sidewalk-scraping, Infect Myself With Something Good And Contagious, Then Go Out And Stamp On Some Cops. It Was Great, Being Nine Years Old.

I Admit That I Have Sometimes Claimed To Be Batman In The Past. But Only When Really, Really Drunk.