Images have become our true sex objects. It is this promiscuity and the ubiquity of images, this viral contamination of images which are the fatal characteristics of our culture.

The secret of theory is that truth does not exist.

At male strip shows, it is still the women that we watch, the audience of women and their eager faces. They are more obscene than if they were dancing naked themselves.

If you assume any rate of improvement at all then the games will become indistinguishable from reality. It would seem to follow that the odds that we are in base reality would be one in billions.

There is no human reason to be here, except for the sheer ecstasy of being crowded together.

A negative judgment gives you more satisfaction than praise, provided it smacks of jealousy.

We are no longer dealing with historical events, but with places of collapse.