Jean Baudrillard

We are becoming like cats, slyly parasitic, enjoying an indifferent domesticity. Nice and snug in the social, our historic passions read more

We are becoming like cats, slyly parasitic, enjoying an indifferent domesticity. Nice and snug in the social, our historic passions have withdrawn into the glow of an artificial coziness, and our half-closed eyes now seek little other than the peaceful parade of television pictures.

There is no aphrodisiac like innocence.

There is no aphrodisiac like innocence.

Every woman is like a timezone. She is a nocturnal fragment of your journey. She brings you unflaggingly closer to read more

Every woman is like a timezone. She is a nocturnal fragment of your journey. She brings you unflaggingly closer to the next night.

Boredom is like a pitiless zooming in on the epidermis of time. Every instant is dilated and magnified like the read more

Boredom is like a pitiless zooming in on the epidermis of time. Every instant is dilated and magnified like the pores of the face.

Everywhere one seeks to produce meaning, to make the world signify, to render it visible. We are not, however, in read more

Everywhere one seeks to produce meaning, to make the world signify, to render it visible. We are not, however, in danger of lacking meaning; quite the contrary, we are gorged with meaning and it is killing us.