Not Every Boy Thrown To The Wolves

Printed Prose Is Historically A Most Peculiar, Almost An Aberrant Way Of Telling Stories, And By Far The Most Inherently Anesthetic: It Is The Only Medium Of Art I Can Think Of Which Appeals Directly To None Of Our Five Senses. The Oral And Folk Tradition In Narrative Made Use Of Verse Or Live-voice Dynamics, Embellished By Gesture And Expression--a Kind Of Rudimentary Theater--as Do The Best Raconteurs Of All Times. Commonly There Was Musical Accompaniment As Well: A Kind Of One-man Theater-of-mixed-means.

Nothing Is Intrinsically Valuable; The Value Of Everything Is Attributed To It, Assigned To It From Outside The Thing Itself, By People.

Finally You Begin To Make Your Mistakes On The Highest Level-let's Say The Upper Slopes Of Slippery Parnassus-and It's At That Point You Need Coaching.

It Is Often Pleasant To Stone A Martyr, No Matter How Much We May Admire Him.

In Art As In Lovemaking, Heartfelt Ineptitude Has Its Appeal And So Does Heartless Skill, But What You Want Is Passionate Virtuosity.