Welcome To The Desert Of The Real.

A Woman Spent All Christmas Day In A Telephone Box Without Ringing Anyone. If Someone Comes To Phone, She Leaves The Box, Then Resumes Her Place Afterwards. No One Calls Her Either, But From A Window In The Street, Someone Watched Her All Day, No Doubt Since They Had Nothing Better To Do. The Christmas Syndrome.

It Is Always The Same: Once You Are Liberated, You Are Forced To Ask Who You Are.

Deep Down, The Us, With Its Space, Its Technological Refinement, Its Bluff Good Conscience, Even In Those Spaces Which It Opens Up For Simulation, Is The Only Remaining Primitive Society.

Laughter On American Television Has Taken The Place Of The Chorus In Greek Tragedy. It Is Unrelenting; The News, The Stock-exchange Reports, And The Weather Forecast Are About The Only Things Spared.

If You Are Prepared To Accept The Consequences Of Your Dreams Then You Must Still Regard America Today With The Same Naive Enthusiasm As The Generations That Discovered The New World.