"The soul not being mistress of herself," says Thseng-tseu, "one looks, and one does not see; one listens, and one does not hear; one eats, and one does not know the
savor of food." He who distinguishes the true
savor of his food can never be a glutton; he who does not cannot be otherwise.
Also, there's the ineluctable
savor of late Picabia, of course, for postmodern terrible is marvelous revisionism.