I read someone once who stated there comes a moment of decision in every man’s life where he chooses either to move forward or back. At the time it sounded faintly ominous, but after a few years paddling around in what suicidally-bored George Sanders correctly referred to as that “sweet cesspool,” I found it a warning largely beside the point. I don’t believe we move in straight lines in terms of human evolvement (or in terms of anything else, for that matter), but rather in a giant circle. We ride wheels within turning wheels (check it: I’m starting to trill like Noel Harrison…), giving the illusion of movement and progress to those inhabitants on other wheels…when all of us are really just pinned down on a piece of drawing paper like a giant Spirograph. Pretty pictures, destined to endlessly repeat themselves.