The great project was that he would spread the net of his mind around the whole damned thing and then watch while it flipped over and everted, turned itself inside out like any possession of the mind; all this to go forward just as predicted by the best books, at least the way he read them. But then he is reminded that if he dreamed the whole thing up then the mind too is part of the dream, all of it woven together out of pieces gathered up here and there and turned into a garment to hide his nakedness and helplessness from what eyes? Or to mislead or astonish whom?