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MANIFESTO

OF

SURREALISM

BY

ANDRÉ BRETON

(1924)

So strong is the belief in life, in what is most fragile in life – real life, I mean – that in the end this belief is lost. Man, that inveterate dreamer, daily more discontent with his destiny, has trouble assessing the objects he has been led to use, objects that his nonchalance has brought his way, or that he has earned through his own efforts, almost always through his own efforts, for he has agreed to work, at least he has not refused to try his luck (or what he calls his luck!).
Nope! Man is no longer a dreamer. He has been roused violently; he is no longer discontent with his destiny but, rather, desperately hopeless. There are few if any objects earned through own efforts since such effort is insufficient to warrant the objects; nowadays we inherit or grasp or partake in an historical aberration, a revolutionary turn of events...
(A revolutionary turn of events which shows that half of Fortune's listed top billionaires are Russian. Imagine the above sentence, 20 years ago: Dangerous science fiction!)

So what is in store. Nothing. The store is empty.

The surrealist manifesto has been duly incorporated and floated and now lists in a few SEs. Indeed, not so long ago, people made money off surrealist inspired derivatives.

We need a new manifesto.

We need is something that is obscure enough to be under the radar for a while and, at the same time, popular enough to have widespread appeal!

Hell of a product. Unobtainium!

We need help and no-one is listening ! Make them listen. Call: +4790369389

The telemegaphone (left) guarantees your voice will resound over a Norwegian mountain. THAT'S BETTER THAN NOWHERE!

And what's more, the device is commendably & politically correctly green: it's wind-powered. (One wonders how these people expect struggling oil people to survive.)


At least let's have some contemporary SURREALIST humour courtesy of the telemegaphone.

(It's better, i.e. healthier and more constructive, than sitting around moping and hoping it will all go away, simply because you are moping. Simply because the "sun will shine following the rain" etc. That sentimental clap-trap does not apply in real life.)