What Is A Society Without A Heroic

Pornography Is The Quadraphonics Of Sex. It Adds A Third And Fourth Track To The Sexual Act. It Is The Hallucination Of Detail That Rules. Science Has Already Habituated Us To This Microscopics, This Excess Of The Real In Its Microscopic Detail, This Voyeurism Of Exactitude.

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.

The Day The World Ends, No One Will Be There, Just As No One Was There When It Began. This Is A Scandal. Such A Scandal For The Human Race That It Is Indeed Capable Collectively, Out Of Spite, Of Hastening The End Of The World By All Means Just So It Can Enjoy The Show.

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.

Welcome To The Desert Of The Real.