Gass once wrote: "Language serves not only to express thought but to make possible thoughts which could not exist without it." Here is the essence of mankind's creative genius: not the edifices of civilization nor the bang-flash weapons which can end it, but the words which fertilize new concepts like spermatozoa attacking an ovum. It might be argued that the Siamese twin infants of word/idea are the only contribution the human species can, will, or should make to the raveling cosmos.

In such seconds of decision entire futures are made.

The truth is, it's not a great career move to create a readership and then, in effect, abandon them.

Want to talk about Shakespeare's sonnets?" asked Orphu of Io. Are you shitting me?" The moravecs loved the ancient human colloquial phrases, the more scatological the better. Yes," said Orphu. "I am most definitely shitting you, my friend.

This is every writer's nightmare - the sudden breakdown of meaning in the language that sustains and supports us.

We are all eaters of souls.

History viewed from the inside is always a dark, digestive mess, far different from the easily recognizable cow viewed from afar by historians.