Memory. My Poison, My Food.

Celebration Of The Human Voice--- When It Is Genuine, When It Is Born Of The Need To Speak, No One Can Stop The Human Voice. When Denied A Mouth, It Speaks With The Hands Or The Eyes, Or The Pores, Or Anything At All. Because Every Single One Of Us Has Something To Say To The Others, Something That Deserves To Be Celebrated Or Forgiven By Others.

...because Of Forced Globalization, There's A Clear Trend These Days Towards Uniformity. This Trend Comes Largely From The Ever-greater Concentration Of Power In The Hands Of Large Media Groups.

The World Is Organised By The War Economy And The War Culture.

I Am Quite Prehistoric, Absolutely Prehistoric.

I Go About The World, Hand Outstretched, And In The Stadiums I Plead: 'a Pretty Move, For The Love Of God.' And When Good Soccer Happens, I Give Thanks For The Miracle And I Don't Give A Damn Which Team Or Country Performs It.