You start to admire the flagrant disregard For the sanctity of other people's lives By the filthy few in positions of power Who go for the jugular in order to survive

There was an exhibit, the title was ‘Everything that I stole from you’, and the artist was exhibiting stolen objects, and he stated where they were stolen, from whom, etc.; it was an exhibit of theft. So obviously it was museified. It was a ready-made. Rather than a bottle-rack, it was theft that was on display, as social action. And so something that was alive was museified . . . Today’s museum has no more boundaries, and we know that there are entire communities that have been anthropologically museified, as patrimony.

Don't you bloody dare cry over spilt milk. You only have yourself to blame.

Isn't it taking candour unwisely far to anticipate clueless responses from some station staff and excuse them on the grounds that some of the chaps you see in uniform have just arrived from the labour exchange?