AB: Hark, who goes there! It's your friendly neighborhood Andre Breton. Ostensibly, I am among the league of voters.
Oh, did you vote?
AB: I voted in the early election.
Which election was that?
AB: I voted for love and all its merchandise.
That was very respectable of you...
AB: Now I sing from the tree-tops.
So who won the election?
AB: As yet to be determined.
And who are you with now?
AB: Many other voters.
Is voting looked upon as a sham?
AB: We all get one vote, unless you're like me. Then you get multiple votes!
Isn't that voter fraud?
AB: I try.
Sorry about all the distracting noise downstairs, kids yelling, etc.
AB: Random noise in the Chaos Machine. And yes, I have one of my own. It's a coupe.
What else comes from your end, other than votes?
AB: Everything that is good. The scent of roses. All the best wines in the cellar...
Aren't you a jolly old Andre Breton in the spirit world? Were you surprised when you found yourself there?
AB: Only that they didn't serve supper.
Not even a Last Supper?
AB: How evil would that be?!
The Kiss of Death*?
AB: Just a kiss.
(Andre does a dance in fancy white shoes)
AB: It's called the Canadian.
Are you secretly Canadian?
AB: Only at heart.
Late last night I watched the Island of Lost Souls (1932); have you seen it?
AB: It is not my favoricon, but it is interesting in a Moreau's (morose) sort of way**.
What's a favoricon?
AB: A favorite iconic movie.
I like how we are inventing language as we go.
AB: Isn't that the nature of all language? And so it goes.
Are there toga parties there too?
Erik chimes in: We have them every once in a while. Only when everyone is really horny.
I note how the entity named Erik made some surrealist-leaning comments in the past. Erik, how is your new found committee status treating you?
Erik: Oh everything is going on without a hitch. We are now love + one (he seems to insist on the plus sign over the word.
Has Andre adopted you as his son?
Erik: We ride motorcycles together.
Where do you go?
Erik: Everywhere beyond the sun.
What is your opinion of the Chaos Machine, or its purpose as such?
AB: Every child should have its game. All reality is but a game. And child's play is fun!
Is life always fun?
AB: Regrets are like stamps. They never return once you've sent them in the mail.
Who do you address your regret stamps to?
AB: Hannibal Lecter.
Erik: Howdy Doody.
Forgive me but I must now return to the Chaos Machine. It's been a fun ride...
AB: Send our regards to the Academy.
*The Kiss of Death:
According to the Synoptic Gospels, Judas identified Jesus to the soldiers by means of a kiss. This is the kiss of Judas, also known (especially in art) as theBetrayal of Christ, which occurs in the Garden of Gethsemane after the Last Supper, and leads directly to the arrest of Jesus by the police force of theSanhedrin (Kilgallen 271). In Christian theology, the events from the Last Supper until the death and resurrection of Jesus are referred to as The Passion. -Wikipedia,
A play on words. from wikipedia:
The Island of Doctor Moreau is an 1896 science fiction novel written by H. G. Wells, who called the novel "an exercise in youthful blasphemy." The text of the novel is the narration of Edward Prendick, a shipwrecked man rescued by a passing boat who is left on the island home of Doctor Moreau, who creates sentient beings from animals via vivisection. The novel deals with a number of philosophical themes, including pain and cruelty, moral responsibility, human identity, and human interference with nature.
the movie Island of Lost souls was the first film adaptation of the H. G. Wells novel.
Arcanum 17, Breton's novel composed in 1944:
"Considered radical at the time, today Breton’s ideas seem almost prescient, yet breathtaking in their passionate underlying belief in the indestructibility of life and the freedom of the human spirit. André Breton wrote Arcanum 17 during a trip to the Gaspé Peninsula in Quebec in the months after D-Day in 1944, when the Allied troops were liberating Occupied Europe. Using the huge Percé Rock—its impermanence, its slow-motion crumbling, its singular beauty—as his central metaphor, Breton considers issues of love and loss, aggression and war, pacifism, feminism and the occult, in a book that is part prose and part poetry, part reality and part dream."