We will cease to tolerate any and all contradiction by numbers. No longer will we take note of any overtime. Despite all discouragement by abstract reality, we will renew our strength and regain our hope in order to map the vast landscape of ambiguities, to make sure that the subjectivity, which can all too easily cause one to trip, will finally know its place.

No more will the bull’s hot breath against our clammy necks weigh us down. We’ll take the monster by the horns. Flash speculators and crypto farmers will be forced to make way for us. We will meticulously walk back the whimsical paths and dark corridors that led to the current emptiness. Along the way we will dismantle the high-speed fibre glass connections and at long last expose the counterfeit reality of binary numbers. We will demonstrate that euros can’t roll like guilders, that ones are nothing more than zeros fallen onto their side. Once everything is revealed to be flat, we will finally be able to introduce the true multidimensional shapes we secretly crave for.

We will once and for all prove that they who imagine themselves everywhere at once are in reality nowhere to be found. We renounce all fragmentation. We hold in high regard the flow of things like the noble river has reminded us of since time immemorial. We will capitalize on truth instead of lies. We will proclaim without restraint the need for delusion. The delusion of art.

We will iron out the flashy stripes from our ties and puncture the soap bubbles separating art and market with cocktail sticks. We will therapeutically remedy the toxic relationship between art and money, mend the gaping wounds so the two can finally be intimately entangled. Thereby making and end to the tolling of the golden bell, which will fade into the dull sound of museological oblivion.

We will be waves on the stream once again.