Waiting at the edge of night, just at the places where the program ends and the commercials are about to begin, sits the bee, a small toggle switch between narrative and space. It waits and watches. In the 1920's, some colonial visionaries dreamed of a time when an airplane could fly from Tokyo to Manchuria powered by an energy source the size of a regular-sized envelope sealed shut and bulging with a 30 page letter sent by someone you'll never see again.     É for they were the dead, and Vengeance was their life.