You Know, It's Been Proven That 35

But The Grind Has Begun. The Windows Don’t Open, And Even The Availability Of Near-constant Jokes About Jews And Mormons Fails To Stem The Tide Of Frustration, Decay. We’ve Reached The End Of Pure Inspiration, And Are Now Somewhere Else, Something Implying Routine, Or Doing Something Because People Expect Us To Do It, Going Somewhere Each Day Because We Went There The Day Before, Saying Things Because We Have Said Them Before, And This Seems Like The Work Of A Different Sort Of Animal, Contrary To Our Plan, And This Is Very Very Bad.

I've Purposely Stayed Away From Reading Much About Postmodern Theory, And Most Everything I Have Read Just Bored Me To Tears. I Don't Think Anybody's Written About It, Or Very Few Have, With Any Verve.

Live Long Enough And You'll Disappoint Everyone. People Think You're Able To Help Them And Usually You Can't. And So It Becomes A Process Of Choosing The One Or Two People You Try Hardest Not To Disappoint. The Person In My Life I Am Determined Not To Disappoint Is You.

Again The Greatest Use Of A Human Was To Be Useful. Not To Consume, Not To Watch, But To Do Something For Someone Else That Improved Their Life, Even For A Few Minutes.

To Me Any Given Story Has Its Appropriate Form. There Might Be Some Story I Get Involved With That's Begging To Be A Graphic Novel, So That Will Have To Be That Way.