Tuesday, February 07, 2006
I can somehow walk and think, and looking at my boots, that is art. There is the forty hour week, and there is money, which both can kill art. Republicanism kills art. War murders art. There is the chattering darkness all around us. In work and in war. You’ve taught me all my life: Art is war, yet I’ve decided we can win. So let us wage our lives against.