I wonder what inspires a man to complain of “having nothing to do.” I am happiest when I have nothing to distract me and I am completely alone.
They flock together like ants, hurry east and west, run north and south. Some are mighty, some humble. Some aged, some young. They have places to go, houses to return to. At night they sleep, in the morning get up.
Sunday has come again. He and Bev Shaw are engaged in one of their sessions of Lösung.
'What is so wrong with America,' he repeated, as if it was the title of a lecture. As indeed it was.
Everywhere, words are mixing. Words and lyrics and dialogue are mixing in a soup that could trigger a chain reaction. Maybe acts of God are just the right combination of media junk thrown out into the air.
“Crimony,” the Sarge says. “The whole town’s gone Hindu.”
According to this week’s Psychic Wonders Bulletin, this is all because of the talking Judas Cow.
Centuries ago, sailors on long voyages used to leave a pair of pigs on every deserted island. Or they'd leave a pair of goats. Either way, on any future visit, the island would be a source of meat. These islands, they were pristine.
Experts in ancient Greek culture say that people back then didn't see their thoughts as belonging to them. When ancient Greeks had a thought, it occurred to them as a god or goddess giving an order. Apollo was telling them to be brave.
Most of the laugh tracks on television were recorded in the early 1950s. These days, most of the people you hear laughing are dead.