With a heavy heart, I'm forced to report to our readers (all Jon Phillips' s idea, mind you) that a great tragedy has befallen Maximum PC today. Fort Murph, proudly erected in the heyday of the magazine's May review schedule, has finally fallen.

A testament to ingenuity, and a perfect cover up for its creator's "emo" behavior, Fort Murph gained its footing as the icon of the magazine soon after its construction. Passersby would often stop and marvel at its appearance, nearly silenced by its great majesty. Nearly, mind you. Visitors were often known to exclaim such queries as, "is that going to go to the ceiling," and, "you made a what?"

Suffice, these were the same pilgrims that would often swing by Fort Murph to partake in its hefty supply of necessary provisions: mountain dew, scotch tape, and scathing wit. When it wasn't serving as the company's personal Statue of Liberty, Fort Murph doubled as a conference room. It brought joy to visiting children, and infused vendors with excitement and a newfound sense of purpose -- when they gazed upon the mighty cardboard for the first time, they realize that, indeed, a New World was waiting for them.

With the tragic loss of Fort Murph, we can but wonder what new engineering design will take its place. Will it be made of streamers? Packing peanuts? Old magazines? Or is this but the sign of a new generation? Has the time of monuments and heroes passed, never to return? It's too soon for this proud host to say. It takes all of my heart to maintain a sense of resolve and purpose, for looking out past my cubicle is but a bin full of empty boxes. Broken dreams, you could say.

A toast to you, Fort Murph. May you find a better life... elsewhere.