‘poet, as dreamer and artist, takes the simple cosmic gestures to heart as yet another lock and key formulaic state residing within each of us even as our states of being sure of this concept are divided in complimentary symptoms to beat back this systemic infection… fascist age learning curve purging of the hatred and all that attending ignorance that has us pointing raping fingers in political correctness at each other to better our worst enemies of course not the ones within ourselves making others into victims in oblivious pursuits to individual happiness’
~JG Ballard on the superfluous role of the fiction writer.
~David Foster Wallace on fiction, art and the meaning of being human.
~Abbie Hoffman on reaching people.
~Jean-Paul Sartre on the modern cruelty of fascism.
‘The results were always unfortunate. I warned him several times about letting the subjects see his foul renderings, but for some perverse reason he kept doing it. Consequently, he was regarded with fear and loathing by nearly everyone who’d seen or even heard about his work. He couldn’t understand it. “It’s sort of a joke,” he kept saying. “Why, in England it’s quite normal. People don’t take offense. They understand that I’m putting them on a bit.”
“Fuck England,” I said. “This is Middle America. These people regard what you’re doing to them as a brutal, bilious insult. Look what happened last night. I thought my brother was going to tear your head off.”…’
out of Context;
‘the absurd takes effect ensnaring us by all accounts in a running gag of sorts that we are unaware of from within even as the dead canned laughter tries cueing the socially clueless to what is really going on committing ourselves to playing these games, managing not to lose our shit calmly taking hits from the fallacy of the peanut gallery making our lives shameless focus of the cruel and captive attention locked and trapped by their idealized gritty guilt trip on actions to be dismissed and repressed for the biased betterment of all involved…’
~ Oscar Wilde on art disturbing the reduction of man.
out of Context;
‘marching feet treading social mechanism as soldiers on psychic assault armed to the teeth, the wizened war-bred bounding into the heats of hell’s highway county seat seeking any solutions that won’t spell a defeat for those helpless ideas with much to lose from these barbaric myths made a bloody cliche of ‘kill or be killed’ passed down foot to mouth as these conquerors painted red the world until the faltering power-mongers meet their ends…’
out of Context;
‘hordes in orgies of the damned are fucked and raped by mobs of aping humans chafing each other this way out of duty to suffer for another false holi-daze trying to smother the real love inside of humanity beset as it is by all the wannabes swarming the shallow end of the gene pool looking for a mate-like material somewhere in the out there, putting all their eggs into one basket where it can apply as long as we could get whatever we want beyond merely this one night standing around waiting for things to happen…’