If The Cards Are Stacked Against You,

New York Is Where It Is Going To Begin, I Think. You Can See It Coming. The Insect Experts Have Learned How It Works With Locusts. Until Locust Population Reaches A Certain Density, They All Act Like Any Grasshoppers. When The Critical Point Is Reached, They Turn Savage And Swarm, And Try To Eat The World. We're Nearing A Critical Point. One Day Soon Two Strangers Will Bump Into Each Other At High Noon In The Middle Of New York. But This Time They Won't Snarl And Go On. They Will Stop And Stare And Then Leap At Each Others

We Were About To Give Up And Call It A Night When Somebody Threw The Girl Off The Bridge.

Old Friend, There Are People—young And Old—that I Like, And People That I Do Not Like. The Former Are Always In Short Supply. I Am Turned Off By Humorless Fanaticism, Whether It's Revolutionary Mumbo-jumbo By A Young One, Or Loud Lessons From Scripture By And Old One. We Are All Comical, Touching, Slapstick Animals, Walking On Our Hind Legs, Trying To Make It A Noble Journey From Womb To Tomb, And The People Who Can't See It All That Way Bore Hell Out Of Me.

Up With Life. Stamp Out All Small And Large Indignities. Leave Everyone Alone To Make It Without Pressure. Down With Hurting. Lower The Standard Of Living. Do Without Plastics. Smash The Servo-mechanisms. Stop Grabbing. Snuff The Breeze And Hug The Kids. Love All Love. Hate All Hate.

A Man With A Credit Card Is In Hock To His Own Image Of Himself.