Terror Is As Much A Part Of

Holidays Are In No Sense An Alternative To The Congestion And Bustle Of The Cities And Work. Quite The Contrary. People Look To Escape Into An Intensification Of The Conditions Of Ordinary Life, Into A Deliberate Aggravation Of Those Conditions: Further From Nature, Nearer To Artifice, To Abstraction, To Total Pollution, To Well Above Average Levels Of Stress, Pressure, Concentration And Monotony - This Is The Ideal Of Popular Entertainment. No One Is Interested In Overcoming Alienation; The Point Is To Plunge Into It To The Point Of Ecstasy. That Is What Holidays Are For.

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.

Every Woman Is Like A Time-zone. She Is A Nocturnal Fragment Of Your Journey. She Brings You Unflaggingly Closer To The Next Night.

Neither Dead Nor Alive, The Hostage Is Suspended By An Incalculable Outcome. It Is Not His Destiny That Awaits For Him, Nor His Own Death, But Anonymous Chance, Which Can Only Seem To Him Something Absolutely Arbitrary. He Is In A State Of Radical Emergency, Of Virtual Extermination.

At The Heart Of Pornography Is Sexuality Haunted By Its Own Disappearance.