#excerpts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the number in front)

"And where is the place of the human self in this delirium?
Van Gogh sought his for his entire life with a strange energy and determination,
and he did not commit suicide in a fit of madness, in a panic of not making it,
but rather he had just made it and had discovered what it was and who he was, when the general consciousness of society, to punish him for having torn himself away from it,
suicided him.
And this happened to van Gogh as it usually does, on the occasion of an orgy, a mass, an absolution, or some other rite of consecration, of possession, of succubation or incubation.
Thus, this society
absolved,
consecrated,
sanctified
and possessed,
entered into his body,
erased in him the supernatural consciousness he had just assumed, and, like a flood of black crows in the fibers of his inner tree,
overwhelmed him with one last jolt,
and, taking his place,
killed him.
Because the anatomical logic of modern man is precisely that he has never been able to live, nor to think of living, except as possessed."

Antonin Artaud, Van Gogh. The Society's Suicided