'In times of peace, there's no need for unofficial recorders.'
--Yuan Haowen (1190-1257)

Poets on the factory model: decide to produce (not poems, but
books of "poetry"), and then try to drum up a market for their
product (this may be the chief sin of the Quietudinous--but not
only theirs...). Who will hold a gun to the head of their pet & ask:
Does this need doing? Who would not be burst like a bubble by
such a question? --Then how much of our art is self-protection
against that actual irrelevance.

I quit eating fast-food not because it gave me indigestion but
because they never would give me exactly what i ordered.

Subtract from philosophy what is merely [Jungian] type-
propaganda, and not much remains except earnest exhortations
and embellishment for the sake of embellishment.

I don't enjoy the struggle of intelligence vs. stupidity. I
can't see it as a game. Therefore i shouldn't choose to play it if
i can avoid so. Never mind "what has to be done". My feelings
of indignation aren't a good guide on this, because though they
keep me aimed with an image of Justice, they would make me try
to reach it by an impossible directness. I must make myself immune
to emotional blackmail even when it comes from me.

None of us is sane, none of us is healthy, none of us is whole--
& the pretence that we are, is not the least of our afflictions.

The Great Big Book of Tomorrow is out!

"Either man is obsolete or war is. " --Buckminster Fuller