The television critic, whatever his pretensions, does not labor in the same vineyard as those he criticizes; his grapes are all sour.
The party of God and the party of Literature have more in common than either will admit; their texts may conflict, but their bigotries coincide. Both insist on being the sole custodians of the true word and its only interpreters.
People resent articulacy, as if articulacy were a form of vice.
The great networks are there to prove that ideas can be canned like spaghetti. If everything ends up by tasting like everything else, is that not the evidence that it has been properly cooked?