Under Each Formula Lies A

Only One Thing Matters: Learning To Be The Loser.

When We Cannot Be Delivered From Ourselves, We Delight In Devouring Ourselves.

I Dream Of A Language Whose Words, Like Fists, Would Fracture Jaws.

When You Have Understood That Nothing Is, That Things Do Not Even Deserve The Status Of Appearances, You No Longer Need To Be Saved, You Are Saved, And Miserable Forever.

Democracy: A Festival Of Mediocrity.