Welcome To The Desert Of The Real.

You Need An Infinite Stretch Of Time Ahead Of You To Start To Think, Infinite Energy To Make The Smallest Decision. The World Is Getting Denser. The Immense Number Of Useless Projects Is Bewildering. Too Many Things Have To Be Put In To Balance Up An Uncertain Scale. You Can't Disappear Anymore. You Die In A State Of Total Indecision.

What You Have To Do Is Enter The Fiction Of America, Enter America As Fiction. It Is, Indeed, On This Fictive Basis That It Dominates The World.

It Is Not Enough For Theory To Describe And Analyze, It Must Itself Be An Event In The Universe It Describes. In Order To Do This Theory Must Partake Of And Become The Acceleration Of This Logic. It Must Tear Itself From All Referents And Take Pride Only In The Future. Theory Must Operate On Time At The Cost Of A Deliberate Distortion Of Present Reality.

There Exists, Between People In Love, A Kind Of Capital Held By Each. This Is Not Just A Stock Of Affects Or Pleasure, But Also The Possibility Of Playing Double Or Quits With The Share You Hold In The Other's Heart.

Information...exhausts Itself In The Staging Of Meaning...[and Leads] Not At All To A Surfeit Of Innovation But To The Very Contrary, To Total Entropy