We ask you, what is a community of troglodytes without a cave?
An occupation that perishes without a trace.
According to a memorandum that just landed (in a puddle of turkey juice) on the desk of the departmental secretary, today the walls of the Kellen gallery were returned to their native white. The thought of all that virgin wall stretching out before us is almost as exciting, as soft, as yielding, as the pungent leatheriness of an executive swivel chair.
It is strange and awe-inspiring to ponder the transience, the metaphysical insignificance, of DECLARATORY STATEMENTS that men did not have the foresight to number, categorize and file in manila folders (MANILA: noblest of substances).
To the Autonomous Occupation: You believed that your petroglyphs would survive you.
We say: IF ONLY YOU HAD EFFECTIVELY SEALED YOUR EXIT LIKE THE PEOPLE OF LASCAUX!
Their sealed cave was a proto-filing-cabinet; and so they anticipated the logic of the bureaucracy that was to come.
For their foresight, they are rewarded. Their occupation shall be remembered. Yours, enemy, has already dropped like a turkey carcass into the dustbin of exhausted COMMODITIES.
Soon, the white-washing will be complete.
History will shine as a TABULA RASA once more.