Her Skull About to Burn Through Her White Face Like a Thousand Watt Bulb
(Post title nicked from William Gibson, like many other things) Let a thousand antennas bloom towards the sky and thrive in its mysterious whispers, a menagerie of diligent secretaries sort through them, instinctively identify one particular snippet whose enigma is most seductive, and forward it in a high priority valise to a Spartan hut where…