if what is known as class society in socialist criticism is much more than just the unequal ownership of the means of production, but rather a continuous categorisation of above and below, of right and wrong, of being selected and rejected, included and excluded, reflected in everyday speech such as you have to come up, you have to make it, hit or miss, and in art of the celebrity cult, the striving to leave the others behind, in order to ascend to olympus, to be one of the gods, in eternal conflict with the other gods, but still eternal, because of the incessant talk about them, and desires projected into them, if all this and so much more coins the daily routine of life and art, as continuous push to transcend to the light of the other side, of the selection, the glory, then the place of the ones who do not like this relationship and this behaviour, those who look for something different, for a possibility not to leave the low behind, but to stay connected with it, a possibility which desperately must exist, and somehow seems to exist in each and every moment, this place would be, in life and art, the borderline between above and below. to get so far upwards that one can partake in the means, the means of self-assertion, the nourishment of the soul, to survive, and the means of productivity, of creativity, of contemporanity. but never going a step too far, in the trap of elite, in the false sun of fame, endowed by the false.

receiving a name, just to lose it.