"Plagiaristic Epiphany"

I was reading The Pirate, when i had an epiphany: i recognized a passage (p. 150 of the first edition) as those exact words i had just been listening to Kathy Acker read on cassette--i am listening to my old tapes during my commutes (since i now have a car that will play them)--

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...Only a fanatic would try to fight banality with profundity...

My Place in the Riot (3). An amateur in a simultaneous exhibition against a grandmaster. I don't know how i'm going to lose only that i will. Yet i continue to cherish, in the face of this annihilation, some wild intuition or hallucination that there's a chance to win, based on my very insignificance...that i'll be underestimated & survive by a trick...the religion of all mice, maybe. So what does it enable them to do? Keep rom dying out completely, i suppose. And the art-impulse now, is it a time for hiding or for witnessing on streetcorners?
Neither trick has worked so far.