Fellow iconographers, friends, enemies, colleagues. The I of I is quite simply, nothing more or less than the autochthonic herald of another dimension, of a new era; the advance guard of the post-apocalyptic age. We are the last page of a sordid history, and the preface to the collected works. The I of I is the first and the last. We therefore claim all icons past present and future as our natural heritage. We worship the graven image and place a multitude of idols before you. All images we hereby give over to the public domain. In the holey name of Art we claim all works cloistered in musty museum mausoleums as our own. All products of starved genius hoarded in hidden private collections we declare to be the sole property of the Institute of Iconography.

    On that note we invoke with a resonant Om the ghosts of all previous movements and traditions. The modernists, the fauvists, the futurists, the cubists, the imagists, the vorticists, the paroxists are DEAD. Surrealism is an hallucination. Post-modernism does not exist. The I of I declares fuschia, mauve, salmon pink and neon green to be counter-evolutionary hues. We proclaim electric purple, anarchist black and red, cadmium yellow light and the blues as our favorite colours.

     Iconography isn't an ism...it is not an ology...it isn't a schism. Iconography is graphic. Graphic in design. Graphic in application. The I of I holds all imagery to be self-evident and the plagiarism of images to be a legitimate expression of art appreciation. To imitate is primate, to originate divine. No more shall the fruits of genius be the exotic dessert of a tasteless elite. The I of I shall photocopy the classics, reproduce the masters and pass them out in the street.