…refers to the jet-setters and week-end swingers, whose migration route follows all the “in” discotheques and yacht parties…a gray-flannel zombie is still a zombie, no matter how much bright colored plastic and shiny rhinestones it wears.
To touch is to die.
{YOUR HEAD IS REELING} when you are suffocated by written words conjuring up nightmarish images of what you represent, and by little children playing dangerous games with what you call life. Flower children are dead. Perhaps one of the then that you see is still alive.
…a satirical look at what happens when a young man refuses to undergo the puberty rites that have become an integral part of our culture.
