We pass through the compressed,  sombre  and living-pixel  entrée  to the deep  cave   tunnel , which swallows us here. Good thing you're dressed for the beach under your uniform. Shuck off those pants and coats, swim now, as if your life depended on your swimming lessons! Round and round, down the gorge, past Pinocchio and Jonah and the Fantastic Four and that tiny Irwin Allen Submarine and yesterdays french fries (still intact! How's that? Don't you chew?) and undissolved antibiotic time-bomb capsules, etc, etc.     L'X était en tête, et mon ancien moi suivait, volant à travers les ténèbres de la télévision des abeilles, cette forme miraculeuse que m'avaient donné les abeilles, et maintenant, reprise par elles.