Art Does Not Die Because There Is

History That Repeats Itself Turns To Farce. Farce That Repeats Itself Turns To History.

The Skylines Lit Up At Dead Of Night, The Air-conditioning Systems Cooling Empty Hotels In The Desert And Artificial Light In The Middle Of The Day All Have Something Both Demented And Admirable About Them. The Mindless Luxury Of A Rich Civilization, And Yet Of A Civilization Perhaps As Scared To See The Lights Go Out As Was The Hunter In His Primitive Night.

The Confrontation Between America And Europe Reveals Not So Much A Rapprochement As A Distortion, An Unbridgeable Rift. There Isn't Just A Gap Between Us, But A Whole Chasm Of Modernity.

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.

One Of Life's Primal Situations; The Game Of Hide And Seek. Oh, The Delicious Thrill Of Hiding While The Others Come Looking For You, The Delicious Terror Of Being Discovered, But What Panic When, After A Long Search, The Others Abandon You! You Mustn't Hide Too Well. You Mustn't Be Too Good At The Game. The Player Must Never Be Bigger Than The Game Itself.