There's nothing in this box but silence and these
intellectuals, self-proclaimed, make me laugh.
The audience is in the stands where the tuba and
accordians play, the decibels are merciful. Give
thanks for that today. I have heaved an entire
Salvation Army band out the window, for
such irony makes me queasy
'The limits of my language mean the limits
of my world.' All of that for this, as they say
at the racetrack window : men with parted
hair, men who can hardly really speak at all.
'I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty
sure that it's not in order to enjoy ourselves.'