Power Broken Into A Thousand Pieces Can

The Days Of My Youth I Remember As Nearly Always In Need Of Explanation, And Not As Much Fun As Advertised In The Promotions For Board Games And Breakfast Cereal.

The Mystical Nature Of American Consumption Accounts For Its Joylessness. We Spend A Great Deal Of Time In Stores, But If We Don't Seem To Take Much Pleasure In Our Buying, It's Because We're Engaged In The Acts Of Sacrifice And Self-definition. Abashed In The Presence Of Expensive Merchandise, We Recognize Ourselves . . . As Suppliants Admitted To A Shrine.

Democracy Is Born In Dirt, Nourished By The Digging Up And Turning Over As Much Of It As Can Be Brought Within Reach Of A Television Camera Or Subpoena.

At This Late Stage In The History Of American Capitalism I'm Not Sure I Know How Much Testimony Still Needs To Be Presented To Establish The Relation Between Profit And Theft.

America Is About Class. To Pretend That It Isn't Is Very Ignorant. No Society Has Ever Existed Without Some Kind Of A Ruling Class.