This is where the stream of subconsciousness that is tumblr possesses my body and exits through my dirty, unwashed hands. Then it reenters the internet and goes back into your eyeballs. So basically I'm touching your eyeballs with my grubby fingers. Gross!
If this were a film, which it's not, and I were an experimental filmmaker, which I'm not really, then this would be the one made completely out of my own bodily fluids and dog feces etched painstakingly onto film. Enjoy!
“There is a plan to re-create the cave outside in some sort of what I called the Disneyland version. Since nobody’s going to be allowed in the cave, they will replicate the entire cave. They’ll replicate the paintings on the walls. And there was even a plan to re-create, in our imagination, the scent inside of the cave. Which means maybe some carrion of rotting cave bears, some fire, some … resins. I’ve found a master perfumer who fantasize[s] wildly about how the odor may have been 32,000 years ago. However, when you are entering there, it is slightly humid. There’s no significant traces of any smell of anything significant in there.”
[[When Margaret Atwood said “Screw Poetry” in the post below — do you think ‘Screw’ was an adjective or a verb? If it was an adjective, then I think she’s basically saying the same thing as this bro. ]]