Without further adieu, I bring you the Word from the mouth of Prometheus:
My fellow Craftisans, I come to you today not as a leader, a uniter or even a prophet as some have claimed.
But I see my brothers and sisters suffer under the unskilled hand of the Enemy.
I see their eyes weep and I hear their nashing of teeth. And I say NO MORE.
NO longer shall the strong of skill suffer the weak.
NO longer shall the washcloth be stained while the canvas runs free.
NO longer shall we tolerate the aesthetic ignorance that threatens our way of life.
I say NO MORE.
So in the spirit of Kropotkin I call upon my brothers and sisters to rise up.
RISE and sing your praise.
RISE and sing the song of freedom.
RISE and throw aside the shackles money, fame and fortune.
RISE and embrace the future.
RISE and embrace your BRAND.
I call on you now to open your checkbooks and write yourself a check. It could be a little, it could be a lot. Sign your blank checks and send them...
A more moving performance I could not imagine. As The Reverend wiped the torrent from his brow, His eyes glowed as neon in the Cave. Shining the light of revelation upon the eager listener. Once a broken man, I emerged born anew, awash with spirit, squinting in the rush hour traffic, blinded by vision.
I bear witness to the glory of Craft and the wickedness of artistic Conceit.
I imbue the life around me with the commitment of sympathy... currency.
I think I left my checkbook at the gas station.
-RFinkelstein-