The Joke Of Our Time Is The

The Noiseless Din That We Have Long Known In Dreams, Booms At Us In Waking Hours From Newspaper Headlines.

What Is Or Is Not The Jargon Is Determined By Whether The Word Is Written In An Intonation Which Places It Transcendently In Opposition To Its Own Meaning; By Whether The Individual Words Are Loaded At The Expense Of The Sentence, Its Propositional Force, And The Thought Content.

In The Innermost Recesses Of Humanism, As Its Very Soul, There Rages A Frantic Prisoner Who, As A Fascist, Turns The World Into A Prison.

Art Is Permitted To Survive Only If It Renounces The Right To Be Different, And Integrates Itself Into The Omnipotent Realm Of The Profane.

History Does Not Merely Touch On Language, But Takes Place In It.