What Sort Of An Age Is This

Some Typewriters In Whitehall, In The Pentagon, Killed More Civilians Than Our Little A4 Could Have Ever Hoped To.

What Sort Of An Age Is This Where A Man Becomes One's Enemy Only When His Back Is Turned?

This Spiritualist, This Statistician, What Are You Anyway?

All The Animals, The Plants, The Minerals, Even Other Kinds Of Men, Are Being Broken And Reassembled Every Day, To Preserve An Elite Few, Who Are The Loudest To Theorize On Freedom, But The Least Free Of All.

Teamwork," Koteks Snarled, "is One Word For It, Yeah. What It Really Is Is A Way To Avoid Responsibility. It's A Symptom Of The Gutlessness Of The Whole Society.