FELLOW FUTURISTS!
On the cusp of Thursday's Progressive Dinner,
it is imperative that we inform you of the nature of the Event!
Your presence is your absence. In other words, your senses will be satiated in the comforts of your very own home, via the dynamic force that is the Mail.
Your body is not desired at the Holy Palate. Your corporeal form is not pure enough to progress through the sterile mechanism of J Walter Wilson. You have poisoned your physique with Pastascuitta, and no manner of purification, purging, or hygienic cleansing can salvage it in time for our Dinner of Progress.
It is not by chance we host this event during a world economic crisis. From the genesis of the event, the economic crisis has inspired depressive panic but also virile creative productivity.
It is no coincidence that the date on the initial invitation--Thursday, November 18th—does not exist on the calendar. This event exists in the liminal space between time, place, and the palate.
Attending the Event consists of the receipt of Dinner in your mailbox. For those who replied promptly and in the affirmative, a sensuous Dinner can be expected to arrive expediently. However, the delivery of the meal is dependent on your manifestation of a manifesto. This manifesto may be made manifest in a number ways: sent electronically to exp.brown@gmail.com, or sent through the Mail to campus box 5932.
For those who did not reply, replied too late, or replied in the negative, your senses will remained unenlightened and your mailbox hungry, like the empty belly of a gluttonous beast.
As a militia of gustatory combatants, we shall march forward collectively dispersed! Heads lifted, spoons raised, tastebuds tantalized—Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired, our epicurean experiments explode now and then, perfuming the room with the typical smell of battle.
Signed,
EXP
