It was time to play with the atavisms of the eternal soul of the pioneering patriarchs, of the Federalists, of the Revolution

.... instantaneous fabrications, in the various sectors of society.

They probably saw me as tough, on the other side of the screen --- a contingent and singular creature, a self-absorbed Leviathan coming from the depths of the night of time, which everyone should observe, apprehend, decipher with the prophetic intuition of maximum fatality. From my daily life, I wanted to see at the end of the day only a monument of triumphant words reviving my image of a tough guy with the most common social fiction, the one that spoke directly to the popular imagination; I wanted to reflect, for the American people, their terrors and spirit of adventure. It was time to play with the atavisms of the eternal soul of the pioneering patriarchs, of the Federalists, of the Revolution; it was time to feed ourselves with cheap serials and comic books, to find, amid the wreckage of the economy, the lost collective dream of the poor Americans, who would make of every day a feat of mystical certainty, in November. But sometimes, so suddenly it seemed that control of everything slipped away from me, that the sad laughter of the old American spy machine infiltrated my mask with the traces of that old plague called freedom, and I noticed, from a distance, in that shred of lucid landscape, our Russian roulette offices spreading across the world.