No Purer Artist Exists Or Has Ever

Ambition Is Not A Dirty Word. Piss On Compromise. Go For The Throat.

A Story Invites Both Writer And Reader Into A Kind Of Superficial Ease: We Want To Slide Along, Pleasingly Entertained, Lost In The Fictional Dream.

Ben Adaephon Delat," Pearl Said Plaintively, "see The Last Who Comes. You Send Me To My Death." "i Know," Quick Ben Whispered. "flee, Then. I Will Hold Them Enough To Ensure Your Escape No More." Quick Ben Sank Down Past The Roof. Before He Passed From Sight Pearl Spoke Again. "ben Adaephon Delat, Do You Pity Me?" "yes" He Replied Softly, Then Pivoted And Dropped Down Into Darkness.

Morality Was Not Relative, They Claimed, Nor Even Existing Solely In The Realm Of Human Condition. No, They Proclaimed Morality Was An Imperative Of All Life, A Natural Law That Was Neither The Brutal Acts Of Beasts Nor The Lofty Ambitions Of Humanity, But Something Other, Something Unassailable

I Was Needed, But I Myself Did Not Need. I Had Followers, But Not Allies, And Only Now Do I Understand The Difference. And It Is Vast.