Stieglitz Conceived, Though He Never Carried Out,

Idealism And Science Continue To Function In Separate Compartments; And Yet 'the Happiness Of Man On Earth' Depends Upon Their Combination.

Unable To Create A Meaningful Life For Itself, The Personality Takes Its Own Revenge: From The Lower Depths Comes A Regressive Form Of Spontaneity: Raw Animality Forms A Counterpoise To The Meaningless Stimuli And The Vicarious Life To Which The Ordinary Man Is Conditioned. Getting Spiritual Nourishment From This Chaos Of Events, Sensations, And Devious Interpretations Is The Equivalent Of Trying To Pick Through A Garbage Pile For Food.

Each One Of Us, As Long As Life Stirs Is Us, May Play A Part In Extricating Ourselves From The Power System By Asserting Our Primacy As People In Quiet Acts Of Mental Or Physical Withdrawal-in Gestures Of Non-conformity, In Abstentions, Restrictions, Inhibitions, Which Will Liberate Us From The Domination Of The Pentagon Of Power.

Each Religion Is A Brave Guess At The Authorship Of Hamlet. Yet, As Far As The Play Goes, Does It Make Any Difference Whether Shakespeare Or Bacon Wrote It? Would It Make Any Difference To The Actors If Their Parts Happened Out Of Nothingness, If They Found Themselves Acting On The Stage Because Of Some Gross And Unpardonable Accident? Would It Make Any Difference If The Playwright Gave Them The Lines Or Whether They Composed Them Themselves, So Long As The Lines Were Properly Spoken? Would It Make Any Difference To The Characters If 'a Midsummer Night's Dream' Was Really A Dream?

Sport In The Sense Of A Mass-spectacle, With Death To Add To The Underlying Excitement, Comes Into Existence When A Population Has Been Drilled And Regimented And Depressed To Such An Extent That It Needs At Least A Vicarious Participation In Difficult Feats Of Strength Or Skill Or Heroism In Order To Sustain Its Waning Life-sense.