Things are no longer what they seem to be. My telephones are haunted, and animals whisper at me from unseen places.

The mind & body must be subjected to extreme stimulus, by means of drugs & music.

With the possible exception of things like box scores, race results, and stock market tabulations, there is no such thing as Objective Journalism. The phrase itself is a pompous contradiction in terms.

No matter how much I wanted all those things that I needed money to buy, there was some devilish current pushing me off in another direction -- toward anarchy and poverty and craziness. That maddening delusion that a man can lead a decent life without hiring himself out as a Judas Goat.

There is a progression of understanding vis-a-vis pro football that varies drastically with the factor of distance -- physical, emotional, intellectual and every other way. Which is exactly the way it should be, in the eyes of the amazingly small number of people who own and control the game, because it is this finely managed distance factor that accounts for the high-profit mystique that blew the sacred institution of baseball off its ''national pastime'' pedestal in less than fifteen years.

I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes.

The Jews don't beleive in Jesus! Why should I?! WHOOOEEEE!!