The Medium Obscured The Message.

Routine Feeds The Illusion Of Safety.

It's Very Difficult To Stay Angry When A Room Full Of Bald Guys In Orange Robes Start Giggling. Buddhism.

Do We Look Like Thrill-seekers? Wasn't It Enough That We Had To Put Up That Sign Reading No Habla Espanol And Acknowledge The Existence Of Thirty Percent Of The Population, Even In The Negative?

And I'll Have You Know That If You Hurt My Son Again, If He So Much As Sighs Sadly Over His Coffee, I Will Hire A Man, A Russian, Probably, To Hunt You Down And Rip All That Shiny Black Hair From Your Head, Then Break Your Skinny Arms And Legs, And Set You On Fire, And Then Put You Out With A Hammer. And Should There Be Children From Your Beastly Rutting, I Shall Have The Russian Man Cut Them To Tiny Pieces And Feed Them To Madame Jacob's Dog. Because, Although He May Be Only A Worthless, Simpleminded, Libertine Artist, Lucien Is My Favorite, And I Will Not Have Him Hurt. Do You Understand?

You're Going To Break My Heart, Aren't You?