I am a personal optimist but a skeptic about all else. What may sound to some like anger is really nothing more than sympathetic contempt. I view my species with a combination of wonder and pity, and I root for its destruction. And please don't confuse my point of view with cynicism; the real cynics are the ones who tell you everything's gonna be all right.

Sex criminals. Completely incurable... I suppose you could outlaw religion and these sex crimes would disappear in a generation or two, but we don't have time for rational solutions.

It's all bullshit, folks and it's bad for ya.

Do you know the nicest thing about looking at pictures of a 1950's baseball park? The only people wearing baseball caps are the players.

They say if you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns. Well, those are precisely the people who need them!

Suddenly, I was thirty, very unhappy entertaining people in their forties, and here came a group of people in their teens and twenties who had similar anti-authority problems and similar dreams and wishes, hopes for mankind. So I gravitated toward them.

The older I got, the more apparent it became that my mother was losing control over me. She fought back fiercely with black moods, silent treatments and martyrdom. And, of course, all she did was run my ass out of the house even quicker. The pressure was unbearable.