Footnotes to Plato from the foothills of the Superstition Mountains

Isn’t It Morally Sick to Enjoy Killing?

Hemingway kill fish

The above reads like the sophistry of a morally sick old man, full of himself, a drunkard, who blew his brains out at the age of 60, a man who kept a list of the men he killed and the women he 'had.'


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