“You said it, fathead: I am an anarchist! And to prove it, there’s a sort of social prayer for vengeance I’ve written. You can tell me this minute what you think of it. ‘Wings of Gold’ it’s called.” And I recited it to him:
“A God who counts the minutes and the pence, a desperate God, sensual and grunting like a pig. A pig with wings of gold which tumbles through the world, with exposed belly waiting for caresses, lo, ’tis he, behold our master! Embrace, embrace!”
“That little piece of yours doesn’t make sense in actual life.”
Louis-Ferdinand Céline
Journey to the End of the Night (1932)
Illustration: A pig with wings
Beings Akin 