I then decided I wanted to ‘do’ a directly, pointedly political painting – minus the detached, cynical attitude employed by those scoffing, petulant punks – which was really starting to piss me off. I was becoming bothered by the vain space race and an urge to get right to the bottom of the sea while horrendous armed conflicts in sub-Saharan Africa were causing multi-millions to starve down here on earth. So I found some pictures of a moody moon surface; a deepsea glassfish; suckling pigs; a bulldozer digging and a starving boy. I recently watched a French documentary about late nineteen-sixties Biafran wars that included a newsreel of a refugee camp as this same child's image flickered into view… means the shot must have come from the original film?
  I no longer care about the fag futility of space exploration – except when I see those scientist cunts screaming, high-fiving when their rocket leaves the ground. Our bourgeoisie are desperate to make themselves seem exciting… although they are not… remotely at all.