You Have To Know How To Disappear.

The Very Definition Of The Real Becomes: That Of Which It Is Possible To Give An Equivalent Reproduction. The Real Is Not Only What Can Be Reproduced, But That Which Is Always Already Reproduced. The Hyper Real.

What I Am, I Don't Know. I Am The Simulacrum Of Myself.

Art Is No Longer Anything More Than A Kind Of Meta-language For Banality.

This Is What Terrorism Is Occupied With As Well: Making Real, Palpable Violence Surface In Opposition To The Invisible Violence Of Security.

We Are No Longer In A State Of Growth; We Are In A State Of Excess. We Are Living In A Society Of Excrescence. The Boil Is Growing Out Of Control, Recklessly At Cross Purposes With Itself, Its Impacts Multiplying As The Causes Disintegrate.