Sometimes you almost get the joke. It's all so much simpler than it looks; there's only one thing going on, but because the mind projects its failure to grasp its own creations its predicament grows endlessly complicated, high and low, it talks non-stop about the world, and is wise, sardonic, ironic, tragic, gallows humour, and takes itself so seriously. Earnestness about a dream that's gotten out of hand, that refuses to wake up, that insists on dragons and puffs itself up stare them down, but the dragons always grow faster and bigger. Behind it all you hear a roaring sound, and behind that sound, a silvery giggling, brimming over. Who will be the first to crack up?