Pistols at sunrise is so 18th century. Rapiers in the courtyard while seconds look on is all well and good if you’re in Heidelberg, but that won’t cut it in China. If you want to decide who’s the Top Dog, the Big Cheese, el jefe — you’re going to need to show up with some serious equipment.
OK, so you’re snowmobiling. That part I get. You’re bombing all over, this way and that. You’re throttling the revver, or revving the throttle, or whatever it is you do to make your motorized Flexible Flyer annoy all the cross-country skiers. That’s all great. What the hell is up with your soundtrack? …
World War II veterans aren’t any kind of mystery to me. They’re getting rather rarer these days, which makes me a little sad. They were matter of fact kind of people.
They really didn’t go looking for any trouble. Their fathers had gone off to Belleau Wood to end the First World War, but only because it needed doing. They didn’t pass down any animus towards any corner of Europe to their kids. The doughboys’ children had problems of their own, and would have preferred to be left alone to find three square meals and a warm place to sleep during the Depression. It was not to be. …
There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.