I just wanted to sum up the most mundane facts for you. The moral argumentation is just one more means to an end, a weapon used in much the same way as lies. This is the world that men have made, and it would make me want to be a woman-if only women did not love men!
I just wanted to sum up the most mundane facts for you.
The moral argumentation is just one more means to an end, a
weapon used in much the same way as lies. This is the world that
men have made, and it would make me want to be a woman-if only
women did not love men!
They talked about death. Hoensch said that death itself was only an illusion under permanent construction, that in reality it didn’t exist.
Here I am—Old Betty Boop whoopsing behind the skull-microphone
wondering what Idiot soap opera horror show we broadcast by Mistake
—full of communists and frankenstein cops and
mature capitalists running the State Department and the Daily News Editorial
hypnotizing millions of legional-eyed detectives to commit mass murder on the Invisible
Fausto’s kind are alone with the task of living in a universe of things which simply are, and cloaking that innate mindlessness with comfortable and pious metaphor so that the “practical” half of humanity may continue in the Great Lie, confident that their machines, dwellings, streets and weather share the same human motives, personal traits and fits of contrariness as they.
A.J. is an agent like me, but for whom or for what no one has ever been able to discover. It is rumored that he represents a trust of giant insects from another galaxy…I believe he is on the Factualist side (which I also represent); of course he could be a Liquefaction Agent (the Liquefaction program involves the eventual merging of everyone into One Man by a process of protoplasmic absorption). You can never be sure of anyone in the industry.
‘Where’s all this smoke from?’ asked Maria. ‘Nothing seems
to be burning.’
‘CNN,’ Schwarzenegger replied.
‘You mean they’re burning something?’
‘No,’ said Schwarzenegger, ‘they’re shooting something.’
“In that little street, Via della Croce, where I bought you
the same tie your wife did.
Do you remember? And I never knew if you were wearing hers or mine.”