1972:

If you come filled with dreams, it may happen that your dream changes about every 15 minutes. The most is yet to come. (p.8)

Then he went on about a fund he was creating to provide huge public cocktail parties with free food and drink for anyone who wants to attend. ‘This would be a nice way to be remembered,’ he said. There had to be a hitch - the parties would not start until after his death, and he wants to enjoy them too. So, for every party, he has arranged with a local funeral home to have his remains wheeled out in a big silver casket. (p.14)

Eerie rites greet the morning sun. He kneels on the floor grasping a small wheel with both hands and slowly prostrates himself. On a roof not far away someone runs on a treadmill. The president of a dressmaking company puts on a belt that sends electric shocks to his abdomen, while his wife stands with on foot on a four-wheeled board and the other foot on another four-wheeled board reverently squatting and rising, while their daughter lies head down on a slanted board, jerking convulsively at the waist. Sauna belts to sweat into. Executive Barbells to swing. Tensolators for building up muscles; vibrator massage machines (‘both centrifugal and percussive action’) and roller massage machines (‘for deep-penetrating massage’) treadmills and rocks and vibrating belts and electric bicycles (‘Do your story dictation aboard a Trimcycle’). Tone-O-Matic weighted belts - belts weighted with 10 pounds of lead and intended to be worn in the normal course of a day’s activity. One man cried that his hands were getting bigger and bigger. (pp.19-20)

At one point when the victim-to-be showed signs of  losing interest in the blandishments of the sirens, the girls put on an impromptu performance that made Salome’s dance of the seven veils resemble a Girl Scout’s festival. (pp.23-24)