"So to sum up, there is a small bit of the macrocosm inside us, inside the microcosm; and this small bit equals the whole universal mind. The microcosm contains the macrocosm, another concept not thinkable in formal logic. God within me sees God outside; the two commune with each other. The two link up through the mediating flesh or body. So he or it, whatever, is made visible here on this world, at this time. Meanwhile, Satan is up at the McDonald's stand, ordering coweye burgers and plastic malts, thinking to keep his power. A few more years of coweye burgers and plastic malts, and he'll have had it." --Philip K. Dick, Exegesis (2011) Read More...

"The ladies in hats glanced, ate, and spoke simultaneously. An unappetizing, much caricatured, yet innocent picture. In view of so much simultaneous and continuous gluttony, an outside observer, Scherbaum for instance with his preconceived opinion, was bound to infer a corresponding process: simultaneous and continuous bowel movements; for this obsessive abundance of apple strudel, almond crescents, cream kisses, and cheesecake could only be counterbalanced by contrary image, by steaming excrement. I rose to new heights. 'You're right, Phillip. Colossal priggishness ... Monumentally repulsive ... And yet, we mustn't forget, it's only a partial aspect.' "Scherbaum said: 'There they sit.' "I said: 'It's worry that makes them stuff.' "Scherbaum: 'I know. They paste cake over everything.' "I: 'As long as they eat cake, they're happy.' "We stared for awhile at the mechanism of the loading and unloading cake forks and registered… Read More...

"Without food, clothing and shelter, man would most certainly die; no shadow of doubt about it. And since no service can be rendered to man that is more valuable than to prevent him from dying, is it possible, as a matter of actual fact, for any kind of labor to be worthy of greater compensation than that which is devoted to the production of food, clothing and shelter? If you were without all these things and had been without them even two weeks, is there any thing on this earth for which you would give more, even if you had all the wealth of Wall street, than something to eat, something to wear and a place to sleep?" --From Socialism Made Plain: Why the Few are Rich and the Many Poor (1904) Read More...

"It is very strange, this domination of our intellect by our digestive organs. We cannot work, we cannot think, unless our stomach wills so. It dictates to us our emotions, our passions. After eggs and bacon, it says, 'Work!' After beefsteak and porter, it says, 'Sleep!' After a cups of tea (two spoonfuls for each cup, and don't let it stand more than three minutes), it says to the brain, 'Now, rise, and show your strength. Be eloquent, and deep, and tender; see, with a clear eye, into Nature and into life; spread out your white wings of quivering thought, and soar, a god-like spirit, over the whirling world beneath you, up through long lanes of flaming stars to the gates of eternity!' "After hot muffins, it says, 'Be dull and soulless, like a beast of the field -- a… Read More...

"23 November 2004 A digression ('I need not apologize for the digression -- it has been my plan throughout this work'). Plutarch could never forgive Herodotus, the father of history, for suggesting that the Egyptians could be better hosts than the Greeks. 'The host must hurry [l'hote doit se hater],' Derrida says on 17 January 1996 in his lectures on hospitality ... Hospitality is always a matter of urgency, always a question of speeds. The unexpected guests arrive and there is always a rush of activity: a hurried welcoming at the door, a quick cleaning up, a surreptitious rearranging or putting back into order, a preparing of food and drink. But even when the guest is expected, has been expected for a long time, there is a sense of urgency. The guests arrive -- always too early or too late,… Read More...

"And they would go across the Square to the cool depth of the drugstore, stand before the onyx splendor of the fountain, under the revolving wooden fans, and drink chill gaseous beverages, limeade so cold it made the head ache, or foaming ice-cream soda, which returned sharp delicious belches down his tender nostrils." --Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel (1929) Read More...