California Is A Tragic Country - Like

The Nazis Hated Culture Itself, Because It Is Essentially International And Therefore Subversive Of Nationalism. What They Called Nazi Culture Was A Local, Perverted, Nationalistic Cult, By Which A Few Major Artists And Many Minor Ones Were Honored For Their Germanness, Not Their Talent.

The Landscape, Like Los Angeles Itself, Is Transitional. Impermanence Haunts The City, With Its Mushroom Industries--the Aircraft Perpetually Becoming Obsolete, The Oil Which Must One Day Be Exhausted, The Movies Which Fill America's Theatres For Six Months And Are Forgotten. Many Of Its Houses--especially The Grander Ones--have A Curiously Disturbing Atmosphere, A Kind Of Psychological Dankness Which Smells Of Anxiety, Overdrafts, Uneasy Lust, Whisky, Divorce And Lies.

I Doubt If One Ever Accepts A Belief Until One Urgently Needs It.

For Other People, I Can't Speak - But, Personally, I Haven't Gotten Wise On Anything. Certainly, I've Been Through This And That; And When It Happens Again, I Say To Myself, Here It Is Again. But That Doesn't Seem To Help Me. In My Opinion, I, Personally, Have Gotten Steadily Sillier And Sillier - And That's A Fact.

The Paternalist Is A Sentimentalist At Heart, And The Sentimentalist Is Always Potentially Cruel.