HIM: Why would you celebrate the fact that you have nothing to say? ME: Uh, cuz it’s less depressing than wallowing in it, and wishing I were someone else? HIM: Good enough. Almost. But let’s try something else. ME: Like what? HIM: Generating, a la the secret dynamo of the senses, some things to say. ME: How do we do that? HIM: By playing a game. ME: What sort of a game? HIM: First, we have to get more people in here. _Where is “here”?_ ME: Where is here? HIM: Don’t change the subject! Work with me on this. Trust, dare I say, me. ME: Okay. Can we have a smoke first? HIM: No! Don’t be ridiculous! Smoking is for the intellectual center, which, in this game, only comes after you have brazed yourself in the fire of the physico-spiritual center. ME: Wow. Okay, man. _They go about getting some more people in here. A thumping starts._