First heard in place unknown, date unknown. Retold in Berlin 2022. Brought to bonfire in Orleans 2024.
A friend told me a story from back in the day when applications for art funding were sent as a file via email. She said that one day, a member from an artist collective ████████ ██ ███ called her in panic: “you must help me, I have lost the file!”
“Hang on, which file are you talking about? What do you mean by ‘the’ file?”
“The file. The file! You know, the one we always ████ ███ █████████████. The corrupted file. I can’t find it anywhere!”
It turned out that every time they applied for funding, the collective ██████ ████ ████ ██████████ ████ █████. ██ ███ ████ ███ █████████ ████████ ███ ████████ ███ ███████████, ███ ██████████ ███ ████ ███ █████████, ████ ███ ██████ a few precious extra days to finish their application. And they were always very successful at getting money.
In fact, the ████ ███ ███ █████ ██ ███, ██ ████ ███ █ ████ ████ ████ extension, which some operating systems back then could not deal with.