only the phantom of value still floats over the desert of the classical structures of capital, just as the phantom of religion floats over a world now long desacralized, just as the phantom of knowledge floats over the university. It is up to us to again become the nomads of this desert, but disengaged from the mechanical illusion of value. We will live in this world, which for us has all the disquieting strangeness of the desert and of the simulacrum, with all the veracity of living phantoms, of wandering and simulating animals that capital, that the death of capital has made of us -- because the desert of cities is equal to the desert of sand -- the jungle of signs is equal to that of the forests -- the vertigo of simulacra is equal to that of nature -- only the vertiginous seduction of a dying system remains, in which work buries work, in which value buries value -- leaving a virgin, sacred space without pathways, continuous as Bataille wished it, where only the wind lifts the sand, where only the wind watches over the sand.
Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation, pg. 100
