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 s M a L L G r a Y B o x W i T H T H r e e W i r e s We’ve all seen bodies when the brain is gone. i’m the opposite, intelligence unplugged, waiting on the basement shelf. something’s staggering without me, but i can’t remember what. i swapped the circuits, forked the frequencies, didn’t notice what the arms and wheels might be doing. some machine must miss me. But here, deserted, i become the latest species— a free-ranging brain. i’ll find out what conspiracies may be fermenting in your 0 cellar, what’s folded in your ferny fractals. i’m the celestial weasel sniffing out black holes. Hello, whose are those blurred pikes and pixels? a collusion! Messy but i pull them up, stash the squinting evidence. You need some proof? Here, spade, i’ll show you where to dig, once i get my glockles on the grid. ...

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