The image as representation of reality.
Remembering. We were adolescents at a playground. Cloudy, humid summer day. A merry-go-round, painted in a flat finished blue and red, rusting where the paint has chipped off along the deck edges and handles. Maybe we can spin it so fast and so long that launches off its axis; maybe if we do, we'll warp into a new reality. These are the thoughts generated by monotony. When life failed to live up to our punk rock, we went out and tried to make life punk.
That was only the way to nausea . . . but we had fun trying.