The bonds exerted upon the angel of history have, in modern culture, been latched down by the unassuming disinterest in revolt exhibited by the poor. It’s as if only the few are haunted by a specter, outside of our windows at night, consistently showing us the knife that we will inevitably use to slit our own wrists. Yet, the poor want freedom, but of what use, and at what cost? Obviously they do not feel the drive enough to move from their palatable couches, whose cushions support the weight of their minds. We want more culture! More freedom! More television! What were really given are more shackles.
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