Satire Always Benefits When Evil And Stupidity

Let's See If I Can Write About Something Other Than My Heart.

I Have Some Memories Of Certain Things That Happened In High School When I Was Stoned Out Of My Mind, But I Talked With Other People About Them, And I Trusted The Aggregated Memories.

I Write Almost Entirely In Bed Or On A Couch With My Feet Up On The Coffee Table. I Feel Most Creative When Im Looking Out The Window, And My Bed And Couch Have Nice Views Of The New York Skyline.

In The First Few Pages, Kundera Discusses Several Abstract Historical Figures: Robespierre, Nietzsche, Hitler. For Eunice's Sake, I Wanted Him To Get To The Plot, To Introduce Actual "living" Characters - I Recalled This Was A Love Story - And To Leave The World Of Ideas Behind. Here We Were, Two People Lying In Bed, Eunice's Worried Head Propped On My Collarbone, And I Wanted Us To Feel Something In Common. I Wanted This Complex Language, This Surge Of Intellect, To Be Processed Into Love. Isn't That How They Used To Do It A Century Ago, People Reading Poetry To One Another?

That's What I Always Liked About Science Fiction - You Can Make The World End. Humour Is My Multiple Warhead Delivery System.