As an aquarium, the TV set signifies the identity of a real and reproduced event. Its images transform the TV set into an aquarium, a still-life, an object of meditation. But the water gradually runs out of the TV cabinet. The gurgling noise grows louder, the movements of the fish become more hectic, finally they are wriggling for their lives on the waterless floor of the cabinet. A warning sinusoidal tone begins to sound – censorship has saved the fish from their doom. I would have filmed the fish until they stopped flapping about, in order to produce the impression of a real death in a real TV set in a real apartment. This deliberate illusion would have shocked the audience, confronted them with real death as opposed to the pictures of death shown on the news, which now seem nothing more than illusion. (Peter Weibel)