We think about a world, hollowed out, surrounded by silent invisible super weapons in space. Billions of biological processes below hung on tiny first person perspectives to what end… can’t ever be shown; field of vision always too small. Draped and un-structured. The inability to execute much beyond consuming what is front of you; minefields of miscommunication, dominated by landscapes someone else made decades ago, went home to their own rabbit hutch night after night trying to pass the time without incident. Red missile outlines pouring down on us from assorted points on the compass, the defense shield lazily catching them in neon green geometric grids. Who’s to say they aren’t inside us now? I'm armor and evasion. You keep on launching more at me.