I hadn’t remembered the black screen, the first minutes of 2001. It sounds like strings are warming up, and they should get limber. I would’ve watched cathode ray tubes warm up. I would’ve listened to the pulses of children in monkey suits. To be honest, I’d been starving for transcendent anything. I went to those caves. I lay down on the highway. I’m renewing my vows in a week. I don’t care about the obelisk—I get prime delivery on those. The weapon bone, the hallway spinning. I do like her hat. I did name something Hal but it was a personal device. I don’t care about the embryo in the black hole space bubble and I’d sacrifice Dave even for the one second bright orange silent desert sunset right after the eclipse and symphonic power chord. Which is awesome. But it’s literally one second. The best part is the beginning, where there’s some radiance in the black like there might be a small fire just to the left of the world, and the strings begin to prepare.