This cold grey sea is the sea of my desire. It churns, roils, spumes. It metastasizes. It whorls, gullies, swells. It is grey. It has its own light, a homeostatic lucency. If you were a helicopter, if you were a gull, looking at the swell, you’d see two things.

The spectacle of terrorism imposes the terrorism of the spectacle. And against this immoral fascination (even if it engenders a universal moral reaction) the political order can do nothing. This is our theatre of cruelty, the only one left to us, -extraordinary because it unites the most spectacular to the

theatricality gives Morgan Wortham the opportunity for an excellent description of Weber’s modus operandi, which ‘continually work[s] to exceed, destabilize and dislocate any framework in which the question of theatricality as such might be put’. For several reasons, theatricality is inseparable from the idea of a theatrical performance.

“A bunch of poofs strutting around in tights pretending they’re kings and queens,” is Robert David MacDonald’s summation of the view of a contemporary audience. Is this all that’s going on on stage to lead us to consider theatre not an artform? a camp theatricality? which, according

– Glory to the Heroes of Conceptualism, Vladimir Dubosarsky & Alexander Vinogradov A new theatre or a new (non-Aristotelian) interpretation of the theatre; a theatre of multiplicities opposed in every respect to the theatre of representation, which leaves intact neither the identity of the thing represented, nor author, nor spectator,

If I was more tech-savvy I’d have a counter somewhere here to show the cost of that diplomatic mission called The War on Terror. The US has, according to Con Coughlin (Telegraph Group), so far paid $700 000 000 000 to occupy Iraq. A figure which rhymes with