Git An Eyeful Of Cesspool Alley The

A Set Of Ideas, A Point Of View, A Frame Of Reference Is In Space Only An Intersection, The State Of Affairs At Some Given Momentin The Consciousness Of One Man Or Many Men, But In Time It Has Evolving Form, Virtually Organic Extension. In Time Ideas Can Be Thought Of As Sprouting, Growing, Maturing, Bringing Forth Seed And Dying Like Plants.

The World's Becoming A Museum Of Socialist Failures.

I Think The Satirist Is Always Basically Optimistic. The Satirist's Complaint About Society Is Always That It Doesn't Measure Up To A Fairly High Ideal He Has. I Think That Even The Bitterest Satirist, Even A Man Like Swift, Was Probably Rather An Optimist At Heart.

It Has Been The Struggle Between Privileged Men Who Have Managed To Get Hold Of The Levers Of Power And The People In General Withtheir Vague And Changing Aspirations For Equality, For Justice, For Some Kind Of Gentler Brotherhood And Peace, Which Has Kept That Balance Of Forces We Call Our System Of Government In Equilibrium.

Why, Lies Are Like A Sticky Juice Overspreading The World, A Living, Growing Flypaper To Catch And Gum The Wings Of Every Human Soul. . . And The Little Helpless Buzzings Of Honest, Liberal, Kindly People, Aren't They Like The Thin Little Noise Flies Make When They're Caught?