Here In The U.s., Culture Is Not

Terror Is As Much A Part Of The Concept Of Truth As Runniness Is Of The Concept Of Jam. We Wouldn't Like Jam If It Didn't, By Its Very Nature, Ooze. We Wouldn't Like Truth If It Wasn't Sticky, If, From Time To Time, It Didn't Ooze Blood.

Every Woman Is Like A Time-zone. She Is A Nocturnal Fragment Of Your Journey. She Brings You Unflaggingly Closer To The Next Night.

Postmodernity Is Said To Be A Culture Of Fragmentary Sensations, Eclectic Nostalgia, Disposable Simulacra, And Promiscuous Superficiality, In Which The Traditionally Valued Qualities Of Depth, Coherence, Meaning, Originality, And Authenticity Are Evacuated Or Dissolved Amid The Random Swirl Of Empty Signals.

What I Am, I Don't Know. I Am The Simulacrum Of Myself.

If There Is A Species Which Is More Maltreated Than Children, Then It Must Be Their Toys, Which They Handle In An Incredibly Off-hand Manner. Toys Are Thus The End Point In That Long Chain In Which All The Conditions Of Despotic High-handedness Are In Play Which Enchain Beings One To Another, From One Species To Another --cruel Divinities To Their Sacrificial Victims, From Masters To Slaves, From Adults To Children, And From Children To Their Objects.