Wasteland

Waste is the name of the game, its greatest virtue. Some call it “refinements in domestic consumption.” I call it “waste.” Writers used to make use of ink and paper. Now we waste bytes. After all, we live in an advanced capitalist society.

To an age when culture is free: Waste is a spurious convoluted logic to absorb and change people outside its mainstream.

To an age when culture has no value: All forms of imitation must be glorified, all forms of originality despised. We must rebel against the tyranny of the terms “harmony” and “good taste” as being too ruthless expressions.

To an age when thought is free: Originality is nothing but refined plagiarism, war is peace, the object of terrorism is terrorism, ignorance is strength, the object of oppression is oppression, freedom is slavery, contradiction is balance, everything you know is wrong, the object of information overload is information overload.

If it all depends on the law of supply and demand, what we produce is nothing but surplus matter, outcast propaganda.

Control + Alt + Delete.

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