Hell Is Out Of Fashion --institutional Hells

People, Particularly Over-moralistic Americans, Have Often Seen Me As A Pessimist And Humourless To Boot, Yet I Think I Have An Almost Maniacal Sense Of Humour. The Problem Is That It's Rather Deadpan.

Nonetheless, Scranton Had Travelled In Space. He Had Known The Loneliness Of Separation From All Other Human Beings, He Had Gazed At The Empty Perspectives That I Myself Had Seen.

The Surrealists, And The Modern Movement In Painting As A Whole, Seemed To Offer A Key To The Strange Postwar World With Its Threat Of Nuclear War. The Dislocations And Ambiguities, In Cubism And Abstract Art As Well As The Surrealists, Reminded Me Of My Childhood In Shanghai.

The Car As We Know It Is On The Way Out. To A Large Extent, I Deplore Its Passing, For As A Basically Old-fashioned Machine, It Enshrines A Basically Old-fashioned Idea: Freedom. In Terms Of Pollution, Noise And Human Life, The Price Of That Freedom May Be High, But Perhaps The Car, By The Very Muddle And Confusion It Causes, May Be Holding Back The Remorseless Spread Of The Regimented, Electronic Society.

Nagasaki Destroyed By The Magic Of Science Is The Nearest Man Has Yet Approached To The Realization Of Dreams That Even During The Safe Immobility Of Sleep Are Accustomed To Develop Into Nightmares Of Anxiety.