‎Who would die for this chance to be fed this death of pleasure with spoons, in their warm homes, alone, unmoving? - David Foster Wallace

The sun like a sneaky keyhole view of hell.

It is difficult to describe how it feels to gaze at living human beings whom you’ve seen perform in hard-core porn. To shake the hand of a man whose precise erectile size, angle, and vasculature are known to you. That strange I-think-we’ve-met-before sensation one feels upon seeing any celebrity in the flesh is here both intensified and twisted. It feels intensely twisted to see reigning industry queen Jenna Jameson chilling out at the Vivid booth in Jordaches and a latex bustier and to know already that she has a tattoo of a sundered valentine with the tagline HEART BREAKER on her right buttock and a tiny hairless mole just left of her anus.

This is so American, man: either make something your god and cosmos and then worship it, or else kill it.