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Friday Oct. 9, 1970 Dear Jack -

   Anathema to Norman Podwhoreyz and all of his ilk, including that organ of intellectual masturbation called Cemetery.  The only good man on the staff is Jack Richardson who should be writing plays instead of writing about them.  Poor Norman sold his soul for a cocktail at Lionel Trillings.   Include in this exile to the outer limits of oblivion that corruptor of youth Mr.  F. C. Leavis.  Do not send me any of A.B. since I have so little touch now with the world of books.  I may sojourn here in cloud cuckoo land for some time.  The brush fires are burning and at any moment the whole mass of trash may self destruct and slide into the sea.

Yours For The Permanent Revolution!! Bill Wedlake ℅ Topliss 28 N. Curtis Ave. Alhambra, Calif. 91801