You see, Jung had this idea of a Collective Unconscious which mankind shared... and I agree. But! I think this Collective Mind is supposed to be cons… - Bill Hicks

And I'll tell you something, too, that's starting to annoy me about UFOs: the fact that they cross galaxies or universes to visit us, and always end up in places like … Fyffe fucking Alabama. Maybe these aren't super-intelligent beings, you know what I mean? "Don't you wanna go to New York or LA?" "Nah, we just had a long trip, we're gonna kick back and whittle some." Oh my god, they're idiots. We're gonna enter our mothership in the tractor pull!" Last thing I wanna see is some flying saucer up on blocks in front of some trailer, bumper sticker on it, "They'll get my raygun when they pry my cold, dead, eighteen-fingered hand off it!"

Let me tell you about gays in the military. I don't want any gay people hanging around me while I'm killing kids. I just don't want to see it.

On December 16, 1961, the world turned upside down and inside out, and I was born, screaming, in America. It was the tail end of the American Dream, just before we lost our innocence irrevocably, when the TV eye brought the horror of our lives into our homes for all to see. I was told, when I grew up, I could be anything I wanted: a fireman, a policeman, a doctor—even the President, it seemed—and, for the first time in the history of mankind, something new called an "astronaut." But like many kids growing up on a steady diet of westerns, I always wanted to be the cowboy hero: that lone voice in the wilderness fighting corruption and evil wherever I found it, and standing for freedom, truth and justice. And in my heart of hearts, I still track the remnants of that dream wherever I go, in my never-ending ride into the setting sun.