Photography Is Our Exorcism. Primitive Society Had

[i]nside Every Computer, There Is A Hidden Man Being Bored.

The Repentant, Run-to-seed Ultra-leftists Who Have Converted To Humanitarianism, Artificial Inseminators Of The Widow And The Orphan, Themselves Orphans Of Reality And Malades Imaginaires Of Politics, Premature Ejaculators Of Posthistory And Hyperchondriacs Of The Dead Body Of Ideology And Morality.

Pornography Is The Quadraphonics Of Sex. It Adds A Third And Fourth Track To The Sexual Act. It Is The Hallucination Of Detail That Rules. Science Has Already Habituated Us To This Microscopics, This Excess Of The Real In Its Microscopic Detail, This Voyeurism Of Exactitude.

The Liberated Man Is Not The One Who Is Freed In His Ideal Reality, His Inner Truth, Or His Transparency; He Is The Man Who Changes Spaces, Who Circulates, Who Changes Sex, Clothes, And Habits According To Fashion, Rather Than Morality, And Who Changes Opinions Not As His Conscience Dictates But In Response To Opinion Polls.

A Society Which Allows An Abominable Event To Burgeon From Its Dung Heap And Grow On Its Surface Is Like A Man Who Lets A Fly Crawl Unheeded Across His Face Or Saliva Dribble From His Mouth -- Either Epileptic Or Dead.