Music is not simply a passive observer of the plastic age. It is an active contributor to petrocapitalism, an agent of petroculture.

[…] magazines, drinking rum popos, calling friends. Now, finally, she felt good. When she felt good she didn't need anyone and no one could touch her or hurt her or throw her away or tell her she wasn't good enough.

, New York Review Books, 2001, p.263: to outbrave one another, they will tire their bodies, macerate their souls, and through contentions or mutual invitations beggar themselves.

You Jews stirred up the Muzzies and I think we ought let them have you for a swap of keeping your head to being a Quran thumper.