IV. As to the lean belated Impressionism at present attempting to eke out a little life in these islands : Our Vortex is fed up with your dispersals, reasonable chicken-men. Our Vortex is proud of its polished sides. Our Vortex will not hear of anything but its disastrous polished dance. Our Vortex desires the immobile rythm of its swiftness. Our Vortex rushes out like an angry dog at your Impressionistic fuss. Our Vortex is whlte and abstract with its red-hot swiftness.
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