Mes chers amis! Can it be that 1995 has arrived at cloture so quickly? Can it be that winter descends upon us like a sheet of pallid sorrow? Each year seems more fleeting than the last. As time races by, so quickly that we scarcely have time to recapture our last breath, so we must ponder why we are here, what we are doing, what our raison d'être is upon this blight-ridden planet of ours, as we make our way like ants through the seething urban imbroglio. Ladies and gentlemen - I give you Ennui.
![[Photo of Our Chieftain]](img00001.gif)