There Is No Apocalypse.

If The Term Discussion Has Always Seemed To Me To Imply Mild Warnings Of Wasted Time, Workshop Sets Off A Clangorous Alarm.

Today The Somme Is A Peaceful But Sullen Place, Unforgetting And Unforgiving. ... To Wander Now Over The Fields Destined To Extrude Their Rusty Metal Fragments For Centuries Is To Appreciate In The Most Intimate Way The Permanent Reverberations Of July, 1916. When The Air Is Damp You Can Smell Rusted Iron Everywhere, Even Though You See Only Wheat And Barley.

Travelers Learn Not Just Foreign Customs And Curious Cuisines And Unfamiliar Beliefs And Novel Forms Of Government. They Learn, If They Are Lucky, Humility.

I Am Working On A Book Urging The Beating To Death Of Baby Whales Using The Dead Bodies Of Baby Seals.

Things Without Defense: Insects, Kittens, Small Boys.