"Music," Ms. A said, not sure where to go with it. She was far from perfect.

"Yes," he went on, "using the sound-effect, the androgynous mind spilling out waves of wonderfully-processed white noise to the hushed whispers of invisible, spellbound crowds, the audio files supplementing the textural narrative while the quick-time movies flicker in the background. It's like randomly accessing a dream-apparatus composed of oozing language-fractals that allow you to get in touch with that part of yourself that is mediumistic in its passing of the all-important love-energy. I suppose you're now prepared to talk to me about the all-important love-energy, aren't you Ms. A?"