The Rose Is Born Evil ... But

Geniuses Are Like Ocean Liners: They Should Never Meet.

And There Are Loners In Rural Communities Who, At The Equinox, Are Said To Don New Garments And Stroll Down To The Cities, Where Great Beasts Await Them, Fat And Docile.

As [john Heartfield] Was Playing With The Fire Of Appearance, Reality Took Fire Around Him... The Scraps Of Photographs That He Formerly Manoeuvred For The Pleasure Of Stupification, Under His Fingers Began To Signify.

What On Earth Is Modern Exegesis Up To? Oh, Little Lazy One! Some Red Wine And Up! Off You Go, Brandishing Your Fork, Stripped Of Ophelia's Useless Ornaments, Fire In Your Large Nostrils, Out To Rake The Muck Of Metaphors.

No More Painters, No More Scribblers, No More Musicians, No More Sculptors, No More Religions, No More Royalists, No More Radicals, No More Imperialists, No More Anarchists, No More Socialists, No More Communists, No More Proletariat, No More Democrats, No More Republicans, No More Bourgeois, No More Aristocrats, No More Arms, No More Police, No More Nations, An End At Last To All This Stupidity, Nothing Left, Nothing At All, Nothing, Nothing.