The dullard finds even wine tasteless, while the sorcerer is intoxicated by the mere sight of water.

Anyone who can read history with both hemispheres of the brain knows that a world comes to an end every instant--the waves of time leave washed up behind themselves only dry memories of a closed & petrified past--imperfect memory, itself already dying & autumnal. And every instant also gives birth to a world--despite the cavillings of philosophers & scientists whose bodies have grown numb--a present in which all impossibilities are renewed, where regret & premonition fade to nothing in one presential hologrammatical psychomantric gesture.

the dullard sees no eros in fine champagne; the sorcerer can fall intoxicated on a glass of water

The autonomy of the individual appears to be complemented & enhanced by the movement of the group; while the effectiveness of the group seems to depend on the freedom of the individual.

The dullard finds even wine tasteless, while the sorcerer is intoxicated by the mere sight of water.

In short, it occurred to me that perhaps the only possible avant garde is the avant garden.

Ten minutes in a video store should convince any impartial observer that we live in a police state of consciousness, far more pervasive than the Nazis.