Once in 1986, in a dialogue titled 'Inside the painting' , we've been analyzing Andrey Monastyrsky's work 'A Finger' - which was an object constructed so that a viewer had to point at himself with his own finger - and discussing various aesthetic spaces related to 'painting'. Among others one almost dominated, and that was a metaphysical space, a dimension where 'true events' took place while the painting's surface just recorded these events. Yet the problem was deeper: in the tradition of Moscow Conceptual school the 'true' was always equivalent to and indistinguishable from the 'false'. The adepts of Conceptualism were always taken by the rest people as 'absolutely false' ones, i.e. the ones who proclaim lie - a concept's relative correspondence to its denotate - as the principle of art. In text, lie as a precondition of gesture and speech, resembles contiguous slipping of the sense, or a commentary that is intended to equivocate what is being commented. A patriot might name it 'an indication to the other'. Andrey Monastyrsky's limb is sure not a branch of Palestine, but rather a branch of power which Monastyrsky beholds as one of the three sources and the three constituents of Moscow Conceptualism. 'The Limb' resumes what was started by 'A Finger', though in a shifted aesthetic environment. Today this environment's levels of freedom got diminished; adepts of contemporary art, sharing their contemporaries' fortune, became, as Monastyrsky put it, 'flat' as a credit card, compared to the 'solid' (or '3D', if you don't mind) artists of his breed. But if it is true, what is then the 'slot' of that automatic teller machine?