Dear Whathaveyou:

Oh people, the dogs of the poor in these Backwards ghettos have stopped their mewling. No barking. Something's afoot. Certainly-- afoot. Make no mistake, we are coming with gears and wrenches, devices O'plenty. If you are reading this, we admit we've left the underground radio controls and committed ourselves to future deeds with you in mind. We may be labeled, festooned, done up as "Editors," but this formality is set in place to divert our most serious intention. Vanguard, hazardous operations of aesthetic kinetics, we wish to impart our world on your heads. Backwards City is stirring. Continue checking this frequency on Sundays and Wednesdays for communiques. [End dictation]

0900 Hours, Backwards City Refinery, Block 18-B