*They sell their world, or what they think is someone's world. Writers write their junk, everybody drinks their booze, does their cocaine, swallows their pills, is happy and numb, adultery is just another day in, day out minuet. Behind this world, in Nihilon, there is nothing, pure façade, varnish, even more opaque and transparent upon the absorbing screens, simulated and not necessarily concocted. The world reveals itself completely in a way, in a distorted frame, the painter is a fucking liar, the writers want to sell their pulped trees with ink implanted upon it (refuse! resist! Me rehuso, otra vez!).
(Pata-NO UNLTD)
*We have to think of something new in order to wake people up. Because at the moment people have become so blasé. How do you get through this miasma of complacency and make people listen? How do we break through it and slap people’s faces—metaphorically—and say, “The world’s collapsing around you, and all you’re worried about is how many ‘likes’ you’ve got on your social media accounts. For fuck’s sake, wake up!”
(TOPY)
*Los artistas, en buscan de la emancipación tanto temporal, como espacial, han destrozado el lienzo; convirtiéndose el gesto de su virtuossismo efímero, el pasaporte de vanguardia.
(ANÓNIMO)
Iglesia del Surf del Cristo Risueño de la Costa LTD. MMXXVI ©
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