"My genes done gone and tricked my brain
By making fucking feel so great
That’s how the little creeps attain
Their plan to fuckin’ replicate
But brain’s got tricks itself, you see
To get the bang but not the bite
I got this here vasectomy
My genes can fuck themselves tonight."
"To speak seriously of such a separation is to get that it isn’t an axe driven through a unitary mass called life, which we can get back to with a little tender love, care, and insurrection, but that both sides of the separation – art and life, like politics and life, economics and life – are little more than the Janus blade-faces of that same splitting axe."
“[A]n unparalleled bit of Dadaist pranksterdom and parody whose pun-heavy critique of Hollywood writing and directing styles, at six and a half minutes long and eighty-two years old, still resonates more forcefully and hilariously than most that have followed.”