the world being nothing other than pseudo-enjoyment

That I can't say love each other. Or stop and look at things. Or don't concentrate wealth. Everything I have to say has been said a million times better, plus it's a cliché. Plus...and here's the kicker-it doesn't change anything. The inevitability of history hits me like a mallet over the head. There is no room for a Thomas Paine in the world today-even though I want to be Thomas Paine, filled with revolutionary zeal, making pamphlets on a Xerox machine.

The remains of religion and of the family, and the moral repression they assure, merge whenever the enjoyment of this world is affirmed-the world being nothing other than pseudo-enjoyment.




retace our steps, act II
text, jenny bitner and guy debord