Oh, God. The Sixties are coming back. Well I've got a 12-gauge double-barreled duck gun chambered for three-inch Magnum shells. And - speaking strictly for this retired hippie and former pinko beatnik - if the Sixties head my way, they won't get past the porch steps. They will be history. Which, for chrissakes, is what they're supposed to be.

I rarely meet a politician that I don't like personally. They are generally well endowed with charm. Therein lies the danger.

Seriously. It was running out at Rolling Stone. First of all, they didn't feel the need for a dissident conservative voice in a world where certain conservative aspects had become intellectually dominant. I would actually argue against that, but on the surface of it, in the [Bill] Clinton years the market economy triumphed, certain libertarian ideas became ordinary, and certain early-20th-century ideas about centralization of government and economic planning and socialism with a small "s" had obviously gone out the window. The Cold War was over, blah blah blah.

The Australian language is easier to learn than boat talk. It has a vocabulary of about six words.

I am a great admirer of women.

If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it's free.

If you get outside the world of show business and its satellites, there's a whole world of car nuts in the Los Angeles area.