Give me lust, baby. Flash. Give me malice. Flash. Give me detached existentialist ennui. Flash. Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism. Flash.
Everyone's in their own personal coma.
Kids grow up connected to nothing these days, plugged in and living lives boosted to them from other people.
Besides, hysteria is only possible with an audience.
We have pain and hate and love and joy and war in the world because we want them.
It takes a lot to get people talking in airplanes. But once they start talking, you just can't shut them up.