Gary Indiana, Three-Month Fever: The Andrew Cunan Story, p. 98:

It’s plausible that Andrew did a lot of detective work on the rich, to move among them easily and comfortably identify, as if born to it, the luxurious junk with which their lives and their homes are so often stuffed. The rich are different from us, different anyway from him, as a magic charm against death the rich fill their houses and private airplanes and seasonal hideaways with incredibly precious and intimidating versions of the everyday objects ordinary people have, plates and flatware and furniture and flush toilets, in addition they fill all available space with every imaginable and unimaginable æsthetic object, creating an aura of awe and grandeur around the invisible Freudian fecal pile that makes it all possible. The horror vacui sensibility of the rich is a form of voodoo against the inevitable neoplasm, coronary episode, renal failure, diabetic amputation, prostate malignancy, cerebral incident, or mentally-disturbed drifter that arrives, voodoo or no voodoo, exactly on time in every life but Leni Riefenstahl’s.

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