« I am addicted to my suffering, to the sustained moment between being something that is nothing or being nothing that is something, or being born and dying simultaneously, or being alive without existence or existing without being alive », et d’ajouter plus loin, perçant d’une vive lumière les bas-fonds caverneux de cette édition du Kunsten : « The smoker lives in a perpetual circular formation of orgasm. An orgasm where the oral, the genital and anal coincide, where the corpse of the seduced victim enters the body and simultaneously exits it from the same cavity. » Face à tant de génie, la critique ne peut que rester muette, ou citer humblement un autre grand philosophe : « Ce dont on ne peut parler, il faut le taire. »
