The squiggles have doubled. Squiggle or scribble, they are part of an automatic writing that is also the body of autonomous words flying out there. It certainly has been thought before that thoughts are autonomous and reproduce, have their own point of view separate from ours, and indeed that they evolve, creating species in isolation, so that in the end you have the swallows singing the wrong songs in all the different valleys.     It was the Land of the Dead. The bee television showed me that place, where the radium souls of living spirits split into innumerable pieces, forming beautiful patterns that were their new bodies, and at the same time a language.