The Only Truly Alien Planet Is Earth.

Art Exists Because Reality Is Neither Real Nor Significant.

Even One's Own Home Is A Kind Of Anthology Of Advertisers, Manufacturers, Motifs And Presentation Techniques. There's Nothing 'natural' About One's Home These Days. The Furnishings, The Fabrics, The Furniture, The Appliances, The Tv, And All The Electronic Equipment - We're Living Inside Commercials.

Art Is The Principal Way In Which The Human Mind Has Tried To Remake The World In A Way That Makes Sense. The Carefully Edited, Slow-motion, Action Replay Of A Rugby Tackle, A Car Crash Or A Sex Act Has More Significance Than The Original Event. Thanks To Virtual Reality, We Will Soon Be Moving Into A World Where A Heightened Super-reality Will Consist Entirely Of Action Replays, And Reality Will Therefore Be All The More Rich And Meaningful.

Selfish Men Make The Best Lovers. They're Prepared To Invest In The Women's Pleasures So That They Can Collect An Even Bigger Dividend For Themselves.

The Twentieth Century Ended With Its Dreams In Ruins. The Notion Of The Community As A Voluntary Association Of Enlightened Citizens Has Died Forever. We Realize How Suffocatingly Humane We've Become, Dedicated To Moderation And The Middle Way. The Suburbanization Of The Soul Has Overrun Our Planet Like The Plague.