Howard Wainer

I don’t know whether it is the age we live in or the age I have lived to, but I have lately found myself shouting at inanimate objects disturbingly often. Usually, it is the television screen, but sometimes it is scholarly journals. Part of the reason for this may be the unchecked growth of the crotchety side of my nature. But I’m certain some of the blame for these untoward outbreaks can be given to the remarkable dopiness that substitutes for wisdom in modern society.

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