Deep Down, No One Really Believes They

There Are Only A Few Images That Are Not Forced To Provide Meaning, Or Have To Go Through The Filter Of A Specific Idea.

But What If God Himself Can Be Simulated, That Is To Say Can Be Reduced To Signs That Constitute Faith? Then The Whole System Becomes Weightless, It Is No Longer Anything But A Gigantic Simulacrum - Not Unreal, But Simulacrum, That Is To Say Never Exchanged For The Real, But Exchanged For Itself, In An Uninterrupted Circuit Without Reference Or Circumference.

It Is The Real, And Not The Map, Whose Vestiges Subsist Here And There, In The Deserts Which Are No Longer Those Of The Empire But Our Own: The Desert Of The Real Itself.

Laughter On American Television Has Taken The Place Of The Chorus In Greek Tragedy. It Is Unrelenting; The News, The Stock-exchange Reports, And The Weather Forecast Are About The Only Things Spared.

In Its Artless Cruelty, Dallas Is Superior To Any "intelligent" Critique That Can Be Made Of It. That Is Why Intellectual Snobberymeets Its Match Here.