ABSTRACT
Everyone in the audience is submerged in goo with wires protruding from their bodies as they are connected to the theatre, feeding insatiably, mothered in a liquid cocoon. Our eyes are closed. The red curtains slowly open, gradually revealing a stage of immeasurable depth. At the furthest horizon, the back wall of the theatre is a glowing white screen. Each of us sees our self projected there: relatives, friends, lovers, enemies in varying degrees of likeness. In between each scene the lights flash, revealing a giant tank extending into the distance of the stage and filled with beautiful young women swimming. They are so plentiful; the water is thick with shimmering orange and silver spangles on their glistening bathing suits. They look like goldfish.
