Not to think any more. To be like a dog. To be in one's head like a dog in a kennel.

'Liberated' East Berlin exports to the West its sexual promiscuity, which thrived in the shadow of dictatorship, and consequently AIDS too, in the form of a contingent of unregulated prostitutes. The West, by contrast, exports its stereo-video-porn to the East, the image and simulacram of sex, of which those in the East were cruelly frustrated. This is more like a mental AIDS. In this way, the two cultures contaminate each other reciprocally after the fall of the Wall of Shame.

Every effort to make me save time by using a computer is criminal. Making me save time--I who do not know what to do with it [...] In any event, time and space are naturally useless, and time saved is as serious as blood spilt.

Cutting through the last umbilical cord that unites us to the real with your own teeth, while your nails dig into your memory in the absolute silence, and the flies endlessly violate our airspace.

It is not an illusion which conceals reality. It is reality which conceals the fact that there is none.

Cards, that virtual money, protect us from the vulgarity of cash. But money itself, that artefact of value, protects us from the vulgarity of the commodity. And the commodity, that artefact of desire, protects us from the vulgarity of human relations. In this way, we are marvellously protected.

Regarding the fidelity of a woman you love and who loves you, no cause for worry. For either she is unreservedly faithful to you--or she is cheating on you. And in the latter case, given all you know of her--or think you know--it would be such an incredible betrayal, such a spiritual disillusionment, that it would be a real negative proof of the existence of God!

[...] The male pole position being virtually unoccupied (since man has virtually disappeared), the feminists are in an enormous hurry to move into it, and they naturally fall into the trap that is the void of power itself. In the same way, political power being emptied of its substance, the Left rushed to seize it and immediately disintegrated in the void.

Hysteresia.

Those who continue to vote although there are no more candidates.

Those who continue to watch television when the broadcasters are on strike.

The phantom limb which goes on hurting even after it is amputated.

The man who is made redundant but goes regularly to his former place of work every morning.

The Japanese stubbornly contemplating the sunset at Ayer's Rock even though there is no sun.

The tightrope-walker who keeps edging forward on his imaginary rope until he realizes it is not there and falls into the void.

The subject who takes himself for a subject even though he disappeared long ago.

Annoyed at having first to turn his pullovers the right side out every time he puts them on, he decides to turn them around as soon as he has taken them off. Surely, this is rational. But since this decision does not override the decision automatically to turn out his pullover when he puts it on, he unfailingly ends up with it the wrong side out. A dilemma: how is one to rationalize an act without disturbing one's automatic behaviour? And things are even worse if, faced with this failure, one resolves to give up the innovation, since the old practice is then immediately disrupted too, being no longer spontaneous and infallible. The situation created is a hopeless tangle. The lesson of all this: all clothing should be reversible. Ideas, too, so that one could slip into them from any side.

In this land of perpetual wind and drought, the silent humidity is an event when all the elements are merged in an indistinct, hepatic luminosity, instead of the clarity of light which usually prevails. All the winds have dropped, and the fire of the sky is shrouded i mist. You can no longer even hear the grass growing, as you are said to do in legend. An autumn day in the middle of summer, a day which never broke and lasts for an eternity: until ten o'clock at night.