The wax death  masque  of reckless, neckless Marie Antoinette. Above and around here, a helixing  ligne  of descending energy, a vocal collection of insinuating nonsense-violence that pushes into the top of her  tête . A larger version of this gyre, the very image of her developing concept of history (she has a lot of time to think, now, which is good, since it is cold and it takes a long time to even remember what words used to be) spins next to her. Most likely, this gyre is just one of the lower gears of a cotton candy  machine , itself just one attraction on a long promenade in the eternal festival  terre  that the  monde  of the  mort  has become (over-population requires lots of entertainment).     Une femme est apparue sur l'écran, puis quatre femmes.