Modem life is a tale told by an idiot;
flat-chested, crop-headed, chemicalised women, of indeterminate
sex,
and wimbly-wambly young men, of sex still more
indeterminate,
and hygienic babies in huge hulks of coffin-like perambulators
—
The great social idiot, it must be confessed,
tells dull, meaningless, disgusting tales
and repeats himself like the flushing of a
WC.