There Are Only A Few Images That

If You Say, I Love You, Then You Have Already Fallen In Love With Language, Which Is Already A Form Of Break Up And Infidelity.

Photography Is Our Exorcism. Primitive Society Had Its Masks, Bourgeois Society Its Mirrors. We Have Our Images.

Television Knows No Night. It Is Perpetual Day. Tv Embodies Our Fear Of The Dark, Of Night, Of The Other Side Of Things.

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.

Deep Down, No One Really Believes They Have A Right To Live. But This Death Sentence Generally Stays Tucked Away, Hidden Beneath The Difficulty Of Living. If That Difficulty Is Removed From Time To Time, Death Is Suddenly There, Unintelligibly.