The Committee to Nuke Elysium

I was at Kuiper 1V last Tuesday and a man in line at the cafeteria
recognized me. We shook hands, our brass tags jingling, and ended up at the
same table with our respective snacks (mine plain tart frozen yogurt,
dressed up in mochi and raspberries, his some sort of vacuum-dried
cuttlefish import). I gave him the whole story, mostly. The storyboards,
the costume designs, the before and after photos. He nodded, understanding
that the music was brought up from the primordial gothness of the
organization, from before me, and not really any of my concern (with the
exception of Herr Drosselmeyer’s Doll, a song with the biblical power of an
abandoned music video [minus cherrypicked concepts seen at work even today,
orphaned on stage], several stunned emails, an incredulous dinner meeting
somewhere in San Francisco, and an absent author).