Yes… the definitive post-hospitalisation-brutality Fuck Society text. An auteur precedent to the Joker philosophy lmao.
One of my stranger claims to fame is that I was briefly an inpatient in the same place Antonin Artaud was once institutionalised in Paris, now the Hôpital Sainte Anne. I was put in a modern ward that I wasn’t allowed out of, and because I arrived in an ambulance through the emergency entrance at first I saw nothing of the grand archways and old asylum wings.
When leaving that hellish place by taxi I finally got to see the historic sanatorium site I’d been hospitalised within. Despite being beautiful it has an extremely sinister vibe, although I’m sure that’s partly because I knew something about it’s history. And I hadn’t exactly had a great time within its walls.