T H E E N D C O M M U N E

"I make my life a piece of art, I grapple with life, I meditate on entropy; I kiss the white cranium of death; I lick the lung-wound of Christ and I suck my oxygen out therefrom, and all the while, the white-robed ones sit on fluffy clouds in the heavens, eating perfect grapes, fingering perfect harps, esteeming the aesthetics of tedium, taking meaninglessness for granted as salvation... "