Once, speech was an art. Then it became an expedient to various forms of persecution and litigation. That was a blasphemy from which its soul could never recover. What is left is a caricature; the flagrant skeletal remains of what was once the most florid and musical of our potentials for expression, communion, and communication.

Now, from the grave of speech, the bones of its exquisite history taunt us; reminding us of a paradise from which we cannot even be ejected… for we shall never know it in our time… unless we resurrect it together, in our lives, minds, mouths and hearts…