Allen Ginsberg comes over the radio teaching Jack Kerouac about the naïve hero who had a crooked neck:
He pulled his super sword out of his stallion's saddle bag, loading it with five clips of spirit.
The spiritboy pats the painted side.
We will not be together forever, my trusted friend;
but alas, we must keep moving...
Black mirror is on the television. I stare into the screen, receiving visions of a broken back, but, let me tell you, it's difficult recognizing your own backbone when you don't know what a backbone is.