Many People Will Find This Book Disrespectful.

In The Words Of The Late Francis Crick...you, Your Joys And Your Sorrows, Your Memories And Your Ambitions, Your Sense Of Personal Identity And Free Will, Are In Fact No More Than The Behavior Of A Vast Assembly Of Nerve Cells And Their Associated Molecules. (13)

Life Contains These Things: Leakage And Wickage And Discharge, Pus And Snot And Slime And Gleet. We Are Biology. We Are Reminded Of This At The Beginning And The End, At Birth And At Death. In Between We Do What We Can To Forget.

I Began Thinking About My Skeleton, This Solid, Beautiful Thing Inside Me That I Would Never See.

In My Whole Life, I've Never Vomited From Seeing Something Disgusting. Does It Really Even Happen, Outside Of Movies And Tv? I Believe It May Be A Myth.

The Nobility Of The Human Spirit Grows Harder For Me To Believe In. War, Zealotry, Greed, Malls, Narcissism. I See A Backhanded Nobility In Excessive, Impractical Outlays Of Cash Prompted By Nothing Loftier Than A Species Joining Hands And Saying “i Bet We Can Do This.” Yes, The Money Could Be Better Spent On Earth. But Would It? Since When Has Money Saved By Government Red-lining Been Spent On Education And Cancer Research? It Is Always Squandered. Let’s Squander Some On Mars. Let’s Go Out And Play.