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A man’s head pushes from a jaguar’s skull, forcing jaws wide. The animal is dead. It’s fur is still there; and facial anger, spilling itself at us beyond its death the way blood splashes nearby just after beheading with a sharp sword, the soft splat, one multiple landing of viscous gobs, wet paper saturation on floor tiles. Now a pain can start. It’s all been stitched up. Each is victim but the jaguar has strength being devoid of sense experience unlike the other who shall have knowledge from his nerves in deep enlarging details as we purify ourselves in his suffering. -- Bartender: You really think the world's gonna end? Ford: Yes. Bartender: Shouldn't we lie down? Put paper bags over our heads or something? Ford: If you like. Bartender: Would it help? Ford: Not at all. Lawrence Upton AHRC Creative Research Fellow Dept of Music Goldsmiths, University of London