The West's post-Holocaust pledge that genocide would never again be tolerated proved to be hollow, and for all the fine sentiments inspired by the memory of Auschwitz, the problem remains that denouncing evil is a far cry from doing good.

A scratching of melody comes from the radio, chords rising open as the land that carries us, rhythm mimicking our passage down the road, harmony making this life seem it should be only that. We sing along to what songs have always been about- beginning, going on, breaking up, forgiving, We sing in missed words and broken phrases as glints of tiger moths fly at us like snow, streaking the windshield over.

If those who cause destruction have come to be __ewsworthy_, and those who heal the devastation of that destruction have come to be less than __oteworthy_, has our thirst to be entertained become the truly destructive thing?

Don't tell a lie to be loved, speak the truth to be hated.

People with Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity (EHS) have the unfortunate choice of suffering Radio Frequency (RF) sickness without electromagnetically screening their homes or to get natural radiation deficiency sickness with the RF protective screening installed, the choice is which sickness is the most tolerable. It is a really bad situation to be in.

I didn't mind what she called me, what anybody called me. But this was the room I had to live in. It was all I had in the way of a home. In it was everything that was mine, that had any association for me, any past, anything that took the place of a family. Not much: a few books, pictures, radio, chessmen, old letters, stuff like that. Nothing. Such as they were, they had all my memories.