Every epic collapse, the provost believed, could be traced back to a single moment—a chance meeting, a bad decision, an indiscreet glance.

I could wade into this river, let my sins drown to the bottom, let the waters carry me someplace far. Someplace with no ghosts, no memories, and no sins.

He says his aim is poetry. One does not aim at poetry with pistols. At poets, perhaps.

At Current, television is all we do - that&#39;s our business. We don&#39;t have amusement parks I have to worry about, we don&#39;t have environmental cases against us, we don&#39;t have a series of outdoor-advertising companies.

Written By Keith Olbermann

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