AUDIO: Start Amiga artificial voice reading of hi-tech personal ads.
VIDEO: On compeletion of audio segment, start title credits.

The MGM lion roars out from the ACT UP logo.

2. ALTA'S SET-UP

LIGHTS: Strip lights up (purple glow on back wall) and back light on Altaira up.
SOUND: space sounds fade to ambient level.

ALTA: Hello. My name is Altaira Morbius, and I'm a notorious interstallar dyke. Well, I'm not completely a dyke. But it's partly true, and saying that you're a dyke can still shock people. Imagine that. It's a good way for me to test your capacity for change. And, after all, if I'd said "Hello, my name is Altaira Morbius and I'm a radical feminist," you'd have all let out a collective groan. Even the radical feminists.

VIDEO: Cutesy matrix of computer anaylsis of the audience with happy, blank and frowning face icons. Altaira surveys the chart.

Marischa Slusarski (left) as Anne Francis as Altaira Morbius (right)

ALTA: Well, here you are. Some of you appear to have a healthy level of tolernace. Many of you are already distructful, even frightened at the suggestion of physical intimacy between two people of the same sex. So typical of your planet. Glaciers of intolerance. A veritable ice age. [checks chart again] Goodness, there are a number of dykes here tonight. Do you all know each other?

VIDEO: Pause at black.

ALTA: My name is Altaira Morbius, but I'm really a transexual prostitute.

VIDEO: New chart is displayed, this one clearly more disapproving than the first. Alta checks it again.

ALTA: Hmmm. I even turned the dykes off that time. Thank you, Robbie.

VIDEO: Pause at black.

ALTA: Robbie's my...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Those of you with open minds are welcome to stay for the tour of my facilities. However, the exit signs will remain lit at all times.

May name really is ALtaira Morbius. Alta for short. I do like the way some people mispronounce it as "alter." Appropriate since I'm here to help you change and you're here to worship me.

Altair was the name of my home. You see, I'm not from your world. I'm just stranded here. My planet, and all my animal friends, were destroyed by monsters from my father's subconscious. Can you imagine? But, of course you can. You're from Earth. Just like Father. Bit I was born on a distant world, by the light of twin moons, and hyenas ate my afterbirth. I fucked whoever and whatever I pleased, animal or machine, and I was immensely happy.

VIDEO: Third audience sample chart appears, still registering high disapproval.

ALTA: [sighs] I don't know how we're going to enjoy our time together in you feel compelled to judge me personally with each little fiction I create. How can we hope to share our most intimate experiences and still have respect for each other as human beings? If things get too disturbing, just pretend that it's a movie. That's what most of my life has been, anyway. Pretend that there's going to be a happy ending and that the monsters won't hurt you. I wasn't so lucky. Virtually kidnapped from my garden of innocent pleasure. Forced to watch the destruction of everything I knew and loved. Destroyed because my sexuality was so threatening. Then, to spend 378 days locked up in hyperspace with 15 competitively selected super perfect physical specifmins of straight, white manhood with an average age of 22.7. It was like a horror film! I was bored out of my mind.

Luckily I had Robbie to talk to. That's when I got this tattoo [points to her shoulder]. Robert. Robbie did it with his laser, but I designed it. Curiously, most of my intense love affairs with men have been with men named Robert. So I had the "s" in paranthesis added a couple years ago to make it plural. That covers the future, too.

Anyway, by the time I arrived on Earth I had such high expectations. I'd read every feminist and liberation text in the ship's library and watched every pornographic fantasy, fully believing that no highly advanced civilization could possibly be as dull and unimaginative as those data files suggested. Can you imagin my utter despair when I arrived and found that this dustball, Earth, was the real forbidden planet -- with the bulk of its intelligence and creativity stifled by self-imposed laws, taboos and prohibitions against human pleasure? The entire resources of a solar system being spent to maintain power over the body. And all of its new technologies simply redesign the prison walls faster and more accurately.

I had no choice but to resist. [moves to her desk set with alien-B-movie-looking monitors with antennas]

LIGHT: back light off and desk spot on.

ALTA: After all, I couldn't go back. robbie didn;t even mind the redesigning I put him through. Little bits of him are spread around the world now. But his circuits are at the heart of my little global enterprise. [she touches the equipment affectionately]

SOUND: cross-fade to sound of machines warming up.
LIGHT: desk-top monitor lights on.

I'm the operator of my very own global phone sex network. And I've made new friends everywhere. I help them communicate their most secret and forbidden desires. And I even plant a few that might not have been there in the first place. So, I've found some measure of happiness, creating my scenerios and helping to interface the alienated, marginalized and oppressed. I'm a big voyeur, so its the perfect occupation. Of course, it's a bit risky running a pirate network like this. Any day now it may be illegal to even talk about touching another body. Can you imagine? [she sits down and begins to moniter her computers]

LIGHT: All lights off except desktop equipment.

3. Remotely Sensed Objects

SOUND: cross-fade to Shadow music.
VIDEO: Image of eyes dilating.

CALVIN KLEIN and PERRY ELLIS enter with flashlights scanning the audience. They open up the GIANT CALVIN KLEIN UNDERWEAR as if constructing a tent. They climb inside and cast seductive shadows against the fabric.

4. Risk Trading

SOUND: music ends, cross-fade to ambient sounds.
LIGHT: Alta's computer lights off, wash up on performers.
VIDEO: Slow-motion engine lubricant commercial with the word FRICTION shooting off sparks.
AUDIO: Phone mikes on.

CALVIN KLEIN (Keith Coleman) and PERRY ELLIS (John Anthony-Martin) pop out of the waistband of the GIANT CALVIN KLEIN UNDERWEAR, talking to each other on two phones even though they are in the same "bed". Their conversation has the tone of a business transaction, as if negotiating a contract, and they are oblivious to the escalating risk of their desired activities.

A giant condom completes this "Land of the Giants" tableau.

CALVIN: You look so hot, I really want to touch you.

PERRY: [playfully scolding] Oh, you're so bad! What of we get caught? It's too risky.

CALVIN: Please, Perry, just a little hugging. Hearing your voice drives me crazy. Can't we just hold each other for a few minutes?

PERRY: [sighs] The problem is that once we go that far, I'll want to kiss you.

CALVIN: Perry! Talk about a risky decision.

PERRY: Just on the cheek. I promise I won't get anywhere near your lips.

CALVIN: But if I let you kiss me on the cheek, then my mouth is going to be just a few inches away from your juicy , luscious ear and I'd like to bite it. Real hard.

PERRY: That's going too far. If I let you chew on my ear then I'm going to lose control and suck on your pretty neck until you're black and blue and then everyone will know that we've been "doing it."

CALVIN: Look, we've both got plenty of turtlenecks. But if I'm going to let you cover me with hickeys, then you have to let me liss you, too. On the lips.

PERRY: I'd never have thought that you would be willing to go to such extremes. I would never let you kiss me there unless you let me wet kiss you.

CALVIN: That's way too risky. I've still got my business to think about. My career would be ruined if anyone found out. I've already got a reputation because of those ad campaigns. There's just no way I'd let you deep kiss me unless you let be suck on your tongue.

PERRY: Calvin, I'll let you suck on my tongue all night long if you'll agree to suck my balls.

CALVIN: I'll suck you balls, but you've go to suck my cock. [perfomers stand up and move apart as their negotiations heat up]

PERRY: Oh, my god!

CALVIN: [pleading] Just a little!

PERRY: I can't believe you!

CALVIN: Through my shorts.

PERRY: I'm not taking any one-sided chances. I'll only suck you if you're willing to 69. And only if we use Saran Wrap.

CALVIN: Look, if you're going to force me to suck on a piece of plastic then I'm going to insist on getting fucked as part of the deal.

PERRY: There's just no way that I'd be comfortable with that. I hate fucking with a rubber. I won't accede to that request unless we agree to prohibit any sort of artifical barrier between our bodies during the aforementioned act of penetration.

CALVIN: If I agree to your rider on my amendment, then my terms will call for an additional act on your part, upon consummation of said unprotected coitus.

PERRY: Rimming is absolutely not an option for discussion...unless...you are willing to provide for the additional insertion of any device or bodily extremity if the partner's choice.

CALVIN: [pause] I'll concede the clauses for lissing, toys and unprotected anal sex, if you'll agree to forgo any future options on other bodily fluid exchange, including, but not limited to, acts involving the use of blood, urine or tears.

PERRY: If you'll initial the paragraphs oral/genital and oral/anal in the affirmative then I'll draw up the letter of agreement and FAX it to you by this afternoon.

CALVIN: [pause] I'm still not comfortable with the wet kissing stuff.

PERRY: I tell you what, if we can close this deal today, then I'll give up my option on wet kissing if you'll agree to forgo anal intercourse of any kind. [slowly the performers begin to wind themselves closer together in the GIANT CALVIN KLEIN UNDERWEAR]

CALVIN: Look, I'll drop all demands for rectal stimulation compeltely if you'll agree to settle for only non-insertive oral stimulation.

PERRY: O.K., here's my final offer. If you will allow for limited use of the tongue during kissing, then I'll throw in full body massage and my juicy, luscious ear.

CALVIN: Are we agreed then? [they look at each other for the very first time] PERRY: Agreed.

CALVIN: I'll call you again tonight then. [they hang up]

LIGHT: cut to black.
VIDEO: Pause at black.
PERFOMERS: PERRY and KALVIN fold underwear then exit with flashlights. ALTA clears props, desk, and exits.

5. Moontalker

SOUND: phone dialing
LIGHT: stage dark except for remaining telephone with internal lights in the ear piece and mouth piece that illuminate CALLER's ear and mouth during this scene.

TAPE: Hi there. Welcome to 976-HOMO. In a moment you'll be connected randomly with another gay caller for up to three minutes of intimate conversation. Also, [spoken in one breath, accelerando] try 976-BODS, 976-HUNK, 976-STUD, 976-JOCK, 976-HARD, 976-HUGE, 976-TOOL, 976-SUCK, 976-FIST, 976-BALL, 976-COME, 976-SPEW, 976-LOAD, or 976-FAGS...

VIDEO: slow motion backdrop projection of Michael Jackson's shoes and white socks dancing and, by the end of the scene, throwing off white sparkles.

CALLER: Hello. Hello.

JACKSON: Hi, hello.

CALLER: How you doin'?

JACKSON: I'm fine.

CALLER: Where're you callin' from?

JACKSON: The Valley

CALLER: Oh yeah, where?

JACKSON: Encino.

CALLER: My name's Roy.

JACKSON: I'm Michael.

CALLER: You sound nice, Michael.

JACKSON: Thank you, so do you...I'm just a little nervous.

CALLER: Yeah, I get the chills sometimes. Especially if I'm talking to someone special. You know what I mean?

JACKSON: Yeah. Where are you?

CALLER: Well, I'm in Chicago right now, I live in Toronto.

JACKSON: Gee, that's a long way to call. Are you visiting?

CALLER: No, I'm performing actually.

JACKSON: Oh, I've performed in Chicago, too! I'm a performer.

CALLER: What kind of performance?

JACKSON: Oh, I sing and dance...you know...

CALLER: Yeah? Me, too.

JACKSON: All right!

CALLER: How old are you?

JACKSON: 28.

CALLER: Really, so am I, this is, uh...

JACKSON: It's a small world, you know.

CALLER: Yeah.

JACKSON: Have you ever been on that ride?

CALLER: What...

JACKSON: It's a Small World, at Disneyland?

CALLER, I, yeah I've...

JACKSON: It's really cute. Have you seen Captain EO?

CALLER: Actually my favorite's the Haunted Mansion.

JACKSON: I love the Haunted Mansion! I;ve been on it 62 times.

CALLER: Really? Whadda you look like?

JACKSON: I'm thin, 5'10", I've got black curly hair, brown eyes, great nose, great cheekbones, great chin, nice smile. People tell me I look a lot like...Janet Jackson.

CALLER: (lying) I'm 6' tall, sandy brown, blue eyes, nice smile, masculine look. Sort of the George Michael type.

JACKSON: You sound very nice. I like your voice.

CALLER: Thanks, are you alone?

JACKSON: I'm in my room and I've got an alarm rigged up. If anyone's coming I can see them on a TV.

CALLER: Wow, that's playing it pretty safe.

JACKSON: I gotta be careful.

CALLER: What are you wearing?

JACKSON: Uh, I've got my pajamas on, and a glove.

CALLER: Really? Me, too! Whadda you like to do?

JACKSON: I like..animals.

CALLER: Animals?

JACKSON: I've got a lot of animals. They're so beautiful. So much nicer than most people.

CALLER: Listen, we're gonna get cut off soon. Can I get your number and call you right back?

JACKSON: Ah, I can't give out my number, I'm sorry. I just call in to talk. I don't have to many friends my own age.

CALLER: Do you have a boyfriend?

JACKSON: I have a few friends, but I've never had a...freind like that. But I dream about it though. See no one understands me. They all think I'm crazy. And everyone thinks I'm gay. But I'm not. I mean, how can you be gay if you;ve never done anything?

CALLER: Yeah. I know what you mean. People are always trying to put other people into categories.

JACKSON: See, its hard for me to meet people. I don't have anyone to talk to about...you know...making love or anything.

CALLER: Do you want to call me back?

JACKSON: Oh yeah, I'd like to. You sound like a real sweet guy.

CALLER: You sound interesting, too. And very familiar. The number here is 312...

JACKSON: 312

CALLER: 666

JACKSON: 66 [click]

CALLER: Hello? Hello? [dial tone]

VIDEO: pause tape at black.

6. Perfect Match

SOUND: phone dialing
LIGHT: phone light off, desk light on.
PROPS: two black brief cases on the desk
VIDEO: animation of giant phone keypad with the numbers 976 pressing repeatedly.

TAPE: Thank you. Your individual profile has now been entered into our Perfect Match computer. You will have 30 seconds to record your own Personal Private Message. Thsi message will be played only to those men who are digitally determined to be your Perfect Match. You may be as explicit as you like. Don't forget to leave your name and contact information such as phone or FAX number. Press 1 to begin recording. [BEEP]

SOUND: begin recording JG's message live

JG: Uh...[clears throat] Hi there. I. uh, this is my first time calling, um...I'm a pretty straight forward kinds guy, um...oh, I guess I oughta tell you my name...

SOUND: end recording

TAPE: [BEEP] Thank you. Your Personal Private Message has now been enetered into our Perfect Match computer. Press 1 to enter your individual profile so that other men may be matched to you. Press 2 to record or review your Personal Private Message for our Perfect Match bulliten board. Press 3 to start the matching process. Press 4 to receive a FAX picture of your Perfect Match, if available. Press 5 to preview our library of digital sound effects which can be added to your Personal Private Message. Press 6 for restaurant reviews. Press 7 for butchy gossip. press 8 for more information about the Perfect Match simulated dating service. Press 9 to enroll in our easy=payment financing plan to cover your Perfect Match calling charges as well as all of your other 976 calls. [BEEP as JG presses the phone's keypad]

You will now be asked a series of questions so that our state-of-the-art computer matching system can find your Perfect Match. Press the star sign at any time to listen to the Personal Private Messages of other hot men that you have been matched with. Have fun and listen carefully.

There are currently...[three hundred and forty five]...possible matches available.

Enter your sixteen digit personal identification code [BEEP, BEEP...etc.]

Thank you. Press 1 if your Perfect Match is under 20 years old. Press 2 if your Perfect Match is between 20 and 30. Press 3 for men between the ages of 30 and 40. Press 4 for men between the ages of 40 and 50. Press 5 for men between the ages of 50 and 60. Press 6 for men my age. Press 7... [BEEP as JG makes his selection] Your Perfect Match is between the ages of...[30 and 40].

There are now...[two hundred sixty seven]...possible matches available.

Press 1 is your Perfect Match is shorter than 5 feet. Press 2 if he is between 5 and 6 feet. Press 3 if he is over 6 feet tall. [BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match is...[between 5 and 6 feet tall].

There are now...[two hundred nineteen]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your Perfect Match is slimmer than average. Press 2 if he is of avaerage weight. Press 3 if he's husky. Press 4 if he's chubby. Press 5 if he's stocky. Press 6 if he's just a few pounds overweight. Press 7 if he's...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match is...[average weight].

There are now...[one hundred thrity six]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your Perfect Match is Asian. Press 2 if he's black. Press 3 is he's caucasian. Press 4 if he's hispanic. Press 5 if he's native American. Press 6 if he's...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match is...[Canadian].

There are now...[ninety two]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your Perfect Match earns less than $10,000. a year. Press 2 if he earns between 10 and 20 thousand a year. Press 3 if he earns between 20...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match earns...[between 50 and 60 thousand dollars a year].

There are now...[forty eight]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your perfect lover has a slightly smaller than average endowment. Press 2 is he has an average endowment. Press 3 if you're into size...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match has...[hung like a mule].

There are now...[thirty seven]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your Perfect Match is versitile. Press 2 if he's GA FP. Press 3 if he's GP FA. Press 4 if he's C3 PO. Press 5 if he's into light S&M. Press 6 if he's into B&D. Press 7 if hee into kink. Press 8 if he likes Streisand...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match...[likes Streisand].

There are now...[eighteen]...possible matches available.

Press 1 if your perfect lover wants to have a phone date only. Press 2 if he wants to trade photographs. Press 3 if he wants to date by FAX. Press 4 if he wants to trade intimate home videos. Press 5 if he wants to interface by computer and modem. Press 6 if he wants to meet in person...[BEEP as JG selects] Your Perfect Match wants...[to meet in person].

There are now...[one]...possible matches available.

Press 1 to hear the Personal Private Message of your Perfect Match. Press 2 to try the matching process again. Press 3 to return to the main menu...[BEEP as JG selects]

[JG opens his two briefcases and extracts spray breath freshener which he uses while straightening his tie and his hair]

Have a pencil and paper ready to write down the contact information of your Perfect Match. Here is the Personal Private Message of your very own Perfect Match. Listen carefully.

SOUND: replay JG's message recorded at the beginning of the scene.

LIGHT: slow fade out as message plays.

7. The Failing Engines of Gravity

Video projection of light circulating on an alien probe or pleasure device.

LIGHT: black out, hand-held and orange roto lights on, heaters on.
STAGE: smoke and fan burst, standy by
SOUND: 4-track tape go, channels 1 & 2 on. VIDEO: warning signs and computer graphic of sexualized, ominous alien probe illuminated by spinning light.

ALTA: I'm sure you're wondering what this is all about. Don't worry. I just flip a switch and everything changes. It's as simple as that. Sometimes it's a subtle shift and other times it's like a revelation. It can get to be a little like cult deprogramming, because people put so much faith in technology. They think that fancy optics and digital computing are somehow intrinsically fair and democratic.

Take your basic video camera. What could be more accurate for collecting and distributing human experience? Well, ask any video engineer. People of color look awful. They turn green and sickly and slightly unfocused. Video cameras capture light, not darkness. the more light reflected by the subject, the sharper the detail. Subtleties of shade and hue are lost to vision altogether. That's because your imaging technologies were designed by fair skinned people and so, of course, it embodies their prejudice and preconceptions.

Next time you walk into a TV studio, just look on the wall and you'll see the generic poster that all technitians use to adjust their systems. The poster is comprised of color bar charts, registration patterns and a picture of a smiling, light-skinned woman. She's the universal fleshtone pin-up of every old techie's wetdreams. And every piece of information, every world event and news documentary that we see on television is colored in a palette relative to that photograph of her flesh.

That's just one example. Think of all the pure products you use every day. Most contain components that were first developed by the military-industrial complex. Think about your FAX machine and its resonence of maximum termination potential and sexual repression. Feel the ultrasonic leftovers of police torture cells and Swiss bank accounts next time you use the auto-dialing feature of your telephone. Most people never realize that their cellular car phone is a byproduct of gender discriminating weapons systems. What pyschological complex of obsession and performance anxiety resulted in all of us being forced to wait for the tone before we can leave a message?

Try looking at the product logo some time: past the slick, liquid seduction packaged by horny, closeted corporate designers. It can be a real education getting back to the root of things. Don't be afraid to face your savior. Computers are exactly like toasters, only logical. Whose logic? What does that imply?

Someone is trying to monopolize the range of human thought processes and they've almost cornered the market. But some of us think with our dicks, so to speak. We think in a completely different time scale. Imagine the alternative technologies that have been abandoned or supressed. Imagine the velvet soft technologies from the island of wild women, the fluid technologies of the water planet boys, the vast prosthetic networks of the tulip bulb children.

Upside down CNN logo announces the inverted clip in the next scene.

Computers have two basic capabilities--speed and accuracy. These are also the tools of control. Who's control? Not Janet Jackson's. This is my control. I like to pull the plug every once in a while, fuck up the color registration and fry a few circuits somewhere. You should give it a try some time. It's really a lot of fun finding subversive uses for your VCR and electronic date books.

I let things get hot enough so that you'll start to question your blind faith. If I can't get you hot this way, I have other methods.

LIGHT: roto lights, hand held light and heaters off.
VIDEO: pause at black.

8. Ascension

9. Phonography

10. Recruiting

11. Virtually Safe

12. Judgment

13. Paired Particles at the Event Horizon

14. Emissions

SOUND: fade music under phone mike.
LIGHT: Alta's computer lights off, wash up on performers.
VIDEO: PAIRED PARTICLES circle JG with lamps.
SOUND: start tape of Alta's intro

ALTA: (on tape) Welcome to 976-FREE. In a moment, you will be able to leave a message for someone you know who has died from AIDS. You may talk as long as you like, it's free. Say whatever you like, you have absolute privacy. No one here will listen to your message. At the end of each day, all 976-FREE recordings are transmitted into space via radio broadcast, then erased from our computer memory. Your message will exit the solar system in 5 years and continue to travel for eternity. Don't wait for the tone. Start talking whenever you like.

SOUND: Start Ambient sounds.
LIGHT: Release single light bulb hung on cord from ceiling and let it swing slowly to a stop over JG's head.

JG: Hi, I read your letters again last night, thin scent of you stuck to my fingers now. Sweet, you guiding me to memories. I'm still shaking sand from my socks on this beach where I've spent a little lifetime since you left working on stories that were quite mean and dishonest until your letters of love knocked them into focus so fast that I'm sending you this valentine.

PAIRED PARTICLES slowly exit. Lose special effect light and bring up wash in green.

JG: How is the city of sex anytime, Heaven? There aren't many men in my life right now. Spend my time off chasing ghosts that haunt the toilets and parks, walking everywhere (which only the poor do in L.A.). I actually mean that a terrible secret makes music here these evenings. A new and intimate companion. He comes here on Saturday nights and fucks me over. His name is Loss. So, I'm shut out of L.A. and I dance on Venice Beach for quarters. My life's like those two masks of theater. Can you see me, the absense of you forming my smile and my frown?

What's that? Oh, you remembered. Yeah, today I'm thirty-one years old. Tomorrow, what will I be? Luckily, no one sent me roses and chocolates like you used to. I sound so blithe! Last night I arranged the performers in a vast ultra-violet landscape. I had the front row all to myself. I watched them glow and touch. Then, I walked out and sat by the thousand camp fires of the homeless. I bartered, trading back rubs for cheap wine. My birthday party was very nice.

What else? My performance in Brussels went to hell, tape enclosed. No plot. I forget the idea. A lot of subtle moves and part of it repeats. The epidodes merge the way a river gives up a body. He offers the flowers shifting collage of video images kissing the slick of his lover's nipple, stomach, the wet nape of his neck warm against the cold tiles of the shower walls. They won't let go of each other, shorts coiling around the thighs of Laocoon and his hunky sons. Anyway, it was a bomb. But I've perceived, in a number of ways, a new piece presenting ourselves -- as fantasies or dreams -- in hyper-drag with never too many sequins in these vignettes composed of obsessions over Dorothy's shoes and friends of Dorothy -- old Daddies in leather -- hunched up against each other in a bar called "The Yellow Brick."

I'm researching normalcy. No authoritative studies exist yet. I personally believe that hanging out the back window with a pair of binoculors to watch the neighbor boys fuck is a good definition. It's a very academic pursuit -- sketches in blue pen noting the signals, rectal temperatures, samples of their ejaculate sent to the lab. Am I turning you on? Or am I turning into you? I squeeze you out with each new fantasy so I can make sure you still exist in me. I have fantisized daily about your face, smiling canvas for my sperm. And I see you on video, attracting dust like a magnet. I have a secret plan to come to your rescue. I know an actor. He says that if I send slides, resume, and lots of everything to a hidden theater or dance space disguised as a love motel -- there he will faithfully and accurately transform his own body so that I can rehearse my lovemaking with you (the scene in question).

Can you tell? I'm pretty poor at doing this over the phone. It's not good for me to hear your voice too often. I think of seeing you and me kiss on all the video monitors in Japan and everyone standing frozen in the train stations watching our monster-sized make-out while gay boys cruise in and out of the toilets, hard-ons leaking into Issey Miyake briefs. It's a comedy disguising a tragedy.

15. Telecumference