It Is The Artist Who Realizes That

Let All Of Us Who Shared The Prison Soup Meet Again In Better Times!

Human Beings Are Better And Lazier Than Their Rules And Instructions.

Such As It Is, The Press Has Become The Greatest Power Within The Western World, More Powerful Than The Legislature, The Executive And Judiciary. One Would Like To Ask; By Whom Has It Been Elected And To Whom Is It Responsible?

This Deliberately Nurtured Hatred Then Spreads To All That Is Alive, To Life Itself, To The World With Its Colors, Sounds, And Shapes, To The Human Body. The Embittered Art Of The Twentieth Century Is Perishing As A Result Of This Ugly Hate, For Art Is Fruitless Without Love. In The East Art Has Collapsed Because It Has Been Knocked Down And Trampled Upon, But In The West The Fall Has Been Voluntary, A Decline Into A Contrived And Pretentious Quest Where The Artist, Instead Of Attempting To Reveal The Divine Plan, Tries To Put Himself In The Place Of God.

Bless You Prison, Bless You For Being In My Life. For There, Lying Upon The Rotting Prison Straw, I Came To Realize That The Object Of Life Is Not Prosperity As We Are Made To Believe, But The Maturity Of The Human Soul.