Parallel tracks of stacked and synchronized X's, all separated by  blanc  vertical bands, stare at us with an unblinking hatred. As our  yeux  slide over this  forme , we  découvrir  that it is yet another beetv, facets covered with by repeating streams of  perdu  X-shapes. Don't blink. Don't look back either.     A la télé des abeilles, on voyait plein de nouveaux corps.