ABSTRACT
AS I WRITE THESE WORDS in my dismal underground lair, by the light of a smoking fire but little superior to the log blazes of the Cave Man, I tell myself that it is futile to exert my brain and fingers on a record that probably none will ever read. For can it be possible that some remnants of the human race, dwelling in some still-undiscovered labyrinth of the earth, will make their way to this grotto where I drag out my aimless existence and find these words along with the unburied bones of him who considers himself perhaps the only living man?
