Fiction Does Not Invent Out Of A

The Engineering Is Secondary To The Vision.

We Have Had, Alas, And Still Have, The Doubtful Habit Of Reverence. Above All, We Respect Things As They Are.

Comedy Springs From The Ludicrous; But The Ludicrous Is Stuck In The Muck Of Reality, Resolutely Hostile To What Is Impossible.

Whoever Mourns The Dead Mourns Himself.

What's Impossible Not To Notice, Though - It's All Around Us - Is The Diminution Of American Prose: How Pedestrian It Has Become. Pick Up Any Short Story And Listen To Its Voice, The Tedious Easy Vernacular That Mistakes Transcription For Realism. This Would Display An Understandable Pragmatism If It Were A Pandering To Common-denominator Readers; But It Is, In Fact, A Kind Of Hifalultin Literary Ideology, The Less-is-more Hemingway Legacy Put Through An Up-to-the-minute Industrial Blender.