The Task Of Art Today Is To

The Taboos That Constitute A Man's Intellectual Stature, Often Sedimented Experiences And Unarticulated Insights, Always Operate Against Inner Impulses That He Has Learned To Condemn, But Which Are So Strong That Only An Unquestioning And Unquestioned Authority Can Hold Them In Check.

Newness Only Becomes Mere Evil In Its Totalitarian Format, Where All The Tension Between Individual And Society, That Once Gave Rise To The Category Of The New, Is Dissipated. Today The Appeal To Newness, Of No Matter What Kind, Provided Only That It Is Archaic Enough, Has Become Universal, The Omnipresent Medium Of False Mimesis. The Decomposition Of The Subject Is Consummated In His Self-abandonment To An Ever-changing Sameness.

One Must Have Tradition In Oneself, To Hate It Properly.

Everything About Art Has Become Problematic; Its Inner Life, Its Relation To Society, Even Its Right To Exist.

Only Thought Which Does Violence To Itself Is Hard Enough To Shatter Myth.