It's Really Hard To Know Why Certain

I Like To Think That One Of Things I've Done With Non-fiction Since The Very Beginning Is To Find New Ways Of Telling True Stories.

I Believe That We Face Incredible Obstacles In Our Attempts To See The World. Everything In Our Nature Tries To Deny The World Around Us; To Refabricate It In Our Own Image; To Reinvent It For Our Own Benefit. And So, It Becomes Something Of A Challenge, A Task, To Recover (or At Least Attempt To Recover) The Real World Despite All The Impediments To That End.

The Chance That Any Given Sentence Is A Lie, Rather Than A Truth, I Think, Is Fairly Great. An Intentional Lie, A Self-deception, A Misconception - There Are Lots Of Categories Of Untruth, Not One Grab Bag. And Hotographs Can Reveal Something To Us, And They Can Also Conceal Things.

Ecstatic Absurdity: It's The Confrontation With Meaninglessness.

There Is Only One Direction. (down.) There Is Only One Color. (black.) And There Is Only One Number (zero.)