She snorted. “Spoken like a Bolshevik. That’s not why I read. I’m sick to death of literature as medicine, literature as therapy, literature as politics, literature as the beacon of mankind. I couldn’t care what writers say about the so-called world. Why should they know more about it than I do? Does anyone really believe that a writer, by virtue of his profession, is honest or compassinate or even intelligent? Look at the lives of most writers, the best writers, they’re scoundrels and hypocrites. Start with Saint Leo. Why should his view on moral issues be instructive? And the proof of this is in the readers. Are they usually kinder than nonreaders? More moral? Are they more successful at life?”
"Peredelinko." Ken Kalfus.
A rap album is inspired by and based on Nietszche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra.
A book is chosen at random. From the first ten pages the writer must only use the words contained therein to write an entire novel (minimum 50,000 words).
Play. A room is made to be as pitch black as possible. All light sources are extinguished after the patrons have found their seats. A one man play is performed. The setting is a man describing his experience in Hell. He keeps the audience for as long as he desires and says as much as he wants.