When The Real Is No Longer What

Imagine The Amazing Good Fortune Of The Generation That Gets To See The End Of The World. This Is As Marvelous As Being There In The Beginning.

Contact With Men Who Wield Power And Authority Still Leaves An Intangible Sense Of Repulsion. It's Very Like Being In Close Proximity To Fecal Matter, The Fecal Embodiment Of Something Unmentionable, And You Wonder What It Is Made Of And When It Acquired Its Historically Sacred Character.

The Sumptuous Age Of Stars And Images Is Reduced To A Few Artificial Tornado Effects, Pathetic Fake Buildings, And Childish Tricks Which The Crowd Pretends To Be Taken In By To Avoid Feeling Too Disappointed. Ghost Towns, Ghost People. The Whole Place Has The Same Air Of Obsolescence About It As Sunset Or Hollywood Boulevard.

Democracy Is The Menopause Of Western Society, The Grand Climacteric Of The Body Social. Fascism Is Its Middle-aged Lust.

Prophesying Catastrophe Is Incredibly Banal. The More Original Move Is To Assume That It Has Already Happened.