When Belief In A God Dies, The

In These Days Of Widespread Illiteracy, Functional Illiteracy... Anything That Keeps People Stupid Is A Felony.

I Am Responsible For Myself. I Am Exactly Who I Eventually Wanted Myself To Be, I Guess, Without Consciously Knowing What I Wanted Me To Be.

In My Ugly, Elitist Opinion We Are Not All Entitled To Voice Our Opinions, We Are Entitled To Pass Along Our Informed Opinions.

There Is Harlan Ellison The Human Being, Who Takes A Crap A Couple Of Times A Day, And Who Farts, And Who Eats Chicken Croquettes, If I Can Find Them. And Then There Is The Writer, This Writer-person, Who Is A Much Finer Person Than I. Much More Orderly, Much More Meaningful. Worthier, Than I [am].

Time Is Like A River Flowing Endlessly Through The Universe. And If You Poled Your Flatboat In That River You Might Fight Your Way Against The Current And Travel Upstream Into The Past. Or Go With The Flow And Rush Into The Future. This Was In A Less Cynical Time Before Toxic Waste Dumping And Pollution Filled The Waterway Of Chronus With The Detritus Of Empty Hours Wasted Minutes Years Of Repetition And Time That Has Been Killed.