Mosaic

There comes a point where trying to make sense of it all feels like trying to staple fog to a moving train. Institutions lurch forward in ceremonial charades, reciting corporate mantras disguised as prophecy. Prophets themselves hawk salvation subcontracted to the lowest bidder. And somehow, we're still squinting for signs that someone, somewhere, has the master plan.

The Department of Coherent Nonsense exists to say plainly - they don’t. Neither do we.

This is an evening for fools, the furious, the courageously kind, and the quietly hopeful. We’ll punch up at the absurd machinery of our times, wink at our own delusions, and remember that joy is the soil where resilience grows. We're here to find our rhythm again, and dance our way toward something that feels like trust.