DADA is our intensinity: it erects inconsequential bayonets and the
Sumatral head of German babies; Dada is life with neither bedroom slippers
nor parallels; it is against and for unity and definitely against the
future; we are wise enough to know that our brains are going to become
flabby cushions, that our antidogmatism is as exlusive as a civil cervant,
and that we cry liberty but we are not free; a severe necessity with
neither discipline nor morals and that we spit on humanity.

DADA remains within the framework of European weaknesses, it's still shit,
but from now on we want to shit in different colours so as to adorn the
zoo of art with all the flags of all the consulates.

We are circus ringmasters and we can be found whistling amongst the winds
of fairgrounds, in convents, prostitutions, theatres, realities, feelings,
restaurants, ohoho, bang bang.

–Tristan Tzara, Monsieur Antypirine's Manifesto

`, . ` `k a r e i' ? ' D42