The sky was thick with TV. If you wore special glasses you could see them spinning through the sky among the bats and homing birds—blondes, wars, famines, football, food shows, coups d’état, hairstyles stiff with...

I’m wearing my End of the Dance Underwear. They’re soggy. It seems these days everything is saturated with my love for you.

We’ve had enough.” He took back the report and jammed it under his arm. “We’ve had a bellyful, in fact.””And like everyone who’s had enough,” said Control as Alleline noisily left the room, “he wants...

The overwhelming noise we live with has made a fundamental pleasure like sex somehow less exciting, less satisfying, than it was for our libidinous forefathers and mothers. It seems to me that for sex and...