Television is the most insidious form of escape known to man. It is the leading medication in the production of catatonia, cutting attention spans down to nothing, and as result will gut the sales of this book. And nobody gives a rat's ass because everyone's catatonic.
Tommy WalkerBrrrrrr. Like a lady had handed me a pickle jar that I simply couldn't open, and I wasn't a man anymore.
Tommy WalkerStichwörter: masculinity
When the hippie era ended and the hangover began, as idealism gives way to disillusionment, the hair of the marchers and street-dancers kept getting longer, and soon it began to tangle. Free love deteriorated into loveless promiscuity, our great electric Kool-Aid acid test churned out an entire generation of burnt-out old relics, and the hair, once a symbol of freedom, became symbolic of the new face of prison, a lawlessness which taken to its logical extreme would imprison all of society as our growing criminal element took to the streets.
Tommy WalkerStichwörter: hippy sixties hippies 60s
Hers was an unconditional love– so long as you kept the food coming. Realizing that what attracted her to me needn’t have been anything more complicated than my having a warm body to nestle in and plentiful food in her bowl, still I felt that she loved me because at least a warm body was something I was already. Being loved for something I already was, no matter how surface oriented, was still better than being loved for the person I might be changed or mistakenly perceived to be.
Tommy WalkerStichwörter: cats
When hurtled into a crisis situation, all creatures great and small will fight for survival. But they live in a fight to be free. A vegetative life of status quo is not going to be enough. So what then to do with this freedom? Really the only thing one can do is go to the light, as our moth friends will do. The freedom to seek possibilities. Following the chain to its source, this is the basic reason that life itself will kill you, because life leads to freedom and freedom leads back to the incinerating light from where your life first came.
Tommy WalkerFalling into this elaborate daydream about me and Heather Craven forever after. Imagining us as married professionals with our six towheaded children running loose in our suburbanite home as surrounded by a lush yard and fenced. Walking toward the door yelling, “Honey, I’m home!” and having Heather answer my call. Imagining the family dog jumping me, slobbering over in greeting and my laughing heartily as I was knocked to the ground. At one point getting so steeped in the fantasy that I actually found myself troubleshooting marital problems in advance, arguing with the fantasy love of my life before the dog grew on me over whether we should even have a dog; wasn’t six dependents enough? Losing the argument and then reluctantly accepting this new intrusion and competitor for Heather’s affections.
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