CULTURE
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Apparently, I am a relic. Sentenced to rage. To rebel. To be furiously angry. Oscar-level, table-flipping rage.
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Herostratus’s insatiable, almost feverish craving for the hyperreal – the exaggerated simulations and imitations of reality, rather than authentic reality itself – drove him to an abject act of destruction of something beautiful and beloved.
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You, anonymous, stupid bastard, who destroys and creates hopelessness.
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Being dumb is a choice. Look around you. You live in a world where being smart is inconvenient
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Everyday we inch towards glorious Marxism of ‘From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs’, where the less ability you have the greater your needs are and the more they have to be met at any all cost to society.
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Mainstream Culture is a reflection of public hypocrisy. It has always resembled one of those bloated, drawn out weddings, where everyone knows that the groom is fucking the mother-in-law in the bathroom.
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Jack London is not right. Alcohol is both God and King, Beauty and the Beast, and everything that we cannot stand but without which we cannot live.
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The feeling of Alcohol in the veins is beautiful.
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Every evening between 7pm (earlier?) and midnight, the world closes its shutters and goes somewhere to get drunk.
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The drunkenness of one person is a longish story with seven stages.
