of all the creatures ever made [man] is the most detestable, he’s the only creature that inflicts pain for sport, knowing it to be pain
a beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you been drinkin jack and coke all morning. she can make you feel high, for the single greatest comodity known to man - promise. promise of a better day, promise of a greater hope, promise of a new tomorrow. this particular aura, can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl, in her smile, in her soul, and the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like its gonna be ok.
i’m a modern man. a man for the millenium. digital and smoke free. a diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist, politically, anatomically, and ecologically incorrect. i’ve been uplinked and downloaded, i’ve been inputted and outsourced. i know the upside of downsizing i know the downside of upgrading. i’m a high tech lo-life. a cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal multitasker and i can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond. i’m new wave but i’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. i’m a hotwired, heatseaking, warmhearted cool customer, voice activated and biodegradable. i interface with my database and my database is in cyberspace, so i’m interactive, i’m hyperactive, and from time to time i’m radioactive. behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, and pushing the envelope. i’m on point, on task, on message, and off drugs. i got no need for coke and speed. i got no urge to binge and purge. i’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top, but under the radar. a high concept, low profile, medium range ballistic missionary. a streetwise smartbomb. a top-gun bottom feeder. i wear power ties; i tell power lies; i take power naps; i take victory laps. i’m a totally ongoing bigfoot, slamdunk rain maker with a pro-active outreach, a raging workaholic, a working rage-a-holic, out of rehab and in denial. i got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal angenda. you can’t shut me up, you can’t dumb me down, cause i’m tireless and i’m wireless. i’m an alpha-male on beta-blockers. i’m a non-believer and an overacheiver, laid-back but fashion foward, up front, down home, low rent, high mantinence, supersize, long lasting, high definition, fast acting, oven ready, and built to last. i’m a hands on, footloose, knee-jerk headcase, prematurely postraumatic, and i have a love child who sends me hate mail. but i’m feeling; i’m caring; i’m healing; i’m sharing; a supportive, bonding, nurturing, primary caregiver. my output is down, but my income is up. i take a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash flow. i read junk-mail; i eat junk food; i buy junk bonds; i watch trash sports. i’m gender specific, captial intensive, user friendly, and lactose intolerant. i like rough sex; i like tough love; i use the f-word in my email, and the software on my hard drive is hardcore; no soft porn. i bought a microwave at a minimall; i bought a minivan at a megastore. i eat fast food in the slow lane. i’m toll free, bite size, ready to wear, and i come in all sizes; a fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. i’ve been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double wrapped, vacuum packed, and i have an unlimited broadband capacity. i’m a rude dude but i’m the real deal, lean and mean, cocked, locked, and ready to rock; rough, tough, and hard to bluff. i take it slow; i go with the flow; i ride with the tide; i got glide in my stride; driving and moving, sailing and spinning, jiving and grooving, wailing and winning. i don’t snooze, so i don’t lose. i keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. i party hardy and lunchtime is crunchtime. i’m hanging in, there ain’t no doubt, and i’m hanging tough, over and out.
life is worth losing
fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity
beauty is nothing, beauty won’t stay. you don’t know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you, you know it’s for something else.
the roots of violence: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principles
design is not just what it looks like and feels like. design is how it works
hell must be like… reminiscing about the good old days when we wished we were dead.
in individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.
the trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.
no emotion, any more than a wave, can long retain its own individual form
there is something about yourself that you don’t know. something that you will deny even exists, until it’s too late to do anything about it. it’s the only reason you get up in the morning. the only reason you suffer the shitty boss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. this is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. “fear or revere me, but please, think i’m special”. we share an addiction. we’re approval junkies. we’re all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. the hip-hip-hoo-fuckin’ rah. look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. shine on you crazy diamond, because we’re just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.
dir.: guy ritchie
an intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. an artist says a hard thing in a simple way.
(august 16h, 1920 - march 9th, 1994)
so many punk bands out at the time were making music that said ‘fuck you’; joy division strove to make something that said ‘i’m fucked’.
founder of factory records