PAUL:	"Let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we 
	have to fear is fear itself."

	Great thought if you're a president.  Nonetheless, heartening 
	words, and a sentiment that has lent hegemonic vigor to the 
	clustered colonies athwart the midriff of the North American 
	continent.

	It has the ring of a progressive incantation that places humanity 
	at the centre of its own universe, granting, nay, admonishing, each 
	and every one of us to grab the power and invent the necessary, 
	conferring carte blanche upon us to set our own unbelievable goals 
	and seek them at any cost.

	In fact, though, it's not true.  There are many things to be afraid of.

	Poisoning, for instance.  You can be afraid of poisoning, whether 
	it be the on-purpose, "death to you" type, or the more benign 
	poisoning, eating raw chicken, say, or buying H off the street.  
	I have been dosing myself incrementally with arsenic to avoid just 
	such a situation.  You gotta at least be aware that that sort of 
	thing can happen.  And out of the blue, too.

	That persistent cough ?  The blurry vision ?  The voices ?  The murmurs ?  
	The shakes ?  Those rough red patchy bits of skin that are always itching ? 
	Who's that in the shadows ? Are we heading down an evolutionary dead end, 
	the new dinosaurs walking in the old dinosaur's shoes ?  Who is in control ?  
	What are the couple next door doing with all that electronic equipment ?  
	What can a dollar buy ?  Guys from Mexico to whom you owe a considerable 
	amount of money, they could show up any day !  Always walk backwards in 
	the snow.  What are those floaty things in your eyes ?  Answer the phone 
	with a voice not your own "Hello, no Paul's not here, is there a message, 
	please ?"  Does your lover really love you, or tolerate you ... or use you ?  
	Maybe she's watching you, maybe she's with the FBI, maybe she's a robot ... 
	Agh ... somebody's marked an M on the back of my coat !  I got ten fingers !  
	No, wait, that's okay ... 

	What happens ... after ?  Are you more afraid of going to hell or that there 
	might actually BE a hell ?

	Oh, jeez, I'm freaking out, here.  How about a peaceful little musical 
	interlude ?  This is Emile Benoit with "Lady Margaret." 
 
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