KEL VALHAAL: The ways will wrap around one another. The wool will be shorn. The sophistication will cease to matter. Does that mean anything to you? Grace will become a tractor. Gauze pads will dance around and Jehovah will come into being. Do you care? Are you listening? The jewels will shed their faces. The raindrops will cry out from the sky. The patterns will no longer seem familiar. Are you listening?
REIGN ARRAY: I just spoke to Joseph Beuys, who told me that I should be very careful. I just spoke to Alexander Scriabin, who told me that I should keep quiet. I called upon Genesis P-Orridge, and I was not permitted an audience. I am trying to help you hover, so that you can do whatever it is that you need to do. But I hardly remember how I got here. I hardly remember where my knife went. I am made of mathematics, not flesh. I am a lobe in a brain that is far, far more than a brain. I am not listening. I never listen: I only speak.
KEL VALHAAL: I asked if I could curl around this rock and you said no. I tried to give you an unaccountable gift, but you couldn't see it. Pay attention, please! I crawled around in the dirt like a worm so that you would be able to wash me. I lost my virginity so that you could revirginize me. I am ashamed because you seem not to see me. I am humilated - nay, I am humiliation itself. Or rather, I am born of humiliation. I am the answer to humiliation's question. And I answer: grace!