When I log onto this dead board...

[Cassius Clay]

[Derived Absurdity]

This board is dead. This board remains dead.

And we have killed it!

You and I. All of us are its murderers.

How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become boards simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us, for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto.

It has been related further that on the same day the madman forced his way into several churches and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing but: "What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of the Pitter's Place?"

[phe_de]

Chill.

[Cassius Clay]

I killed this board to bring balance to the universe.