Having no children, wife, salary or fellow workers; no boss, career, TV or car, no business card or voter registration card, social security or alarm clock, no radio or newspapers, no Saturday bargain hunting or Sunday picnic, no songs or sports records in your head, no movie or horse-racing tickets in your pocket means a slew of opportunities for freedom and a lot of risk of being alone. Money decides between the two; the slightest action performed outside the usual hours, places, circumstances, institutions or approved persons costs a fortune. Unless you subscribe to “the fringe,” which I can’t bring myself to do. It means rejoining the same world by another door. Middle-class hangers-on in beards and worn dungarees disgust and repel me in the same way that their kinsmen in ties and cars do. A different style of speech, ideas that are against the grain, different threads equal the same civilization, limits, dependencies, pretenses. And neither revolution, drugs nor pop turns me on. Frankly I’d rather be a nasty, puritanical, self-satisfied, imbecilic, withdrawn, hypocritical, despotic, intolerant, marriage-advocating, illiterate, sunken-eyed, deaf-as-a-doornail flabby-mouth than be all of it with a coating of libertarian mega-bullshit.
(From Diary of an Innocent by Tony Duvert)