First, a touch of whimsy:
While the battle between good and evil was reaching its climax, that between truth and beauty was just getting nasty.
Then, serious for a moment:
What can you do to fight terrorism? You yourself, I mean. To fight real terrorism.
Refuse to be terrorized. Live your life as you would without terrorism.
This is an obvious truth, which may be why I never did anything with the thought. On 9/11, all civilian air traffic in the US was grounded. 9/13 was the date it resumed. I was on the first plane to leave Philadelphia that day.
Finally, a censored bit. Nothing scandalous. But I'd torn a small fantasy illo out of a magazine and written under it my analysis of its aesthetic faults. I'm not about to hold somebody up for scorn publicly, however, when all they did was fail to be a better artist than they were. Shakespeare was guilty of that too. Though, admittedly, on a much higher level.