It was empty, there was no one left. Inadequacy at every level left the historical room empty. A few pigeon feathers blowing around from a tiny draft caused by a door left ajar. A once great establishment stood still. No more deals made in times of recessions, Catastrophic policy-making and pandemics. Disaster economics had worked well. The fat elite had buffered off to Grand Cayman whilst we the punters were left feeding off landfill sites. The empty shell of the commons was a measure of our times. History would talk about these dark times with disbelief. But it was all true, for once historical facts had not been distorted. The Island of fools stood as a symbol of how not to do things for all eternity. The digital mark was left in every computer on the planet.