Fin

The dynamics of self-hatred. The life of self-hatred. Of our thrashings. Of our convulsions …


Nothing hates itself like a human being. We’re the uniquely fucked up species, right?

What’s wrong with us? How did self-loathing become a form of enjoyment? Like scorpions stinging themselves.


Shutdown, that’s what we want. The final final. Credits rolling, or whatever. The end, in big capitals. Fin, like the end of a Godard film.