I was watching, as is my wont these days, cross-legged on the parlor floor, making sure to change the channel any time the dreaded Ellen appeared on screen, hoping to find some more wonderful music to ponder. Aha! Just the thing came to me, at the start of a very confusing movie:

What a song! They’re right, this hidden man and his band, about love; it has an undeniable power, and I found myself nodding in agreement from the first lyric. But I have to admit something about the movie disturbed me.

Luckily, a few days ago Tyrone had helped me connect a VCR to the micro-vision, so I could record any interesting scenes I might find. Before I go back to the tape, though, I want to address an issue that I’ve seen brought up many times in the programs I’ve watched over the past few weeks (or is it days? the micro-vision baffles me): the VCR is hard to program. I am not joking, though I realize this is somehow, for some reason, meant to be a joke of some kind. Again: I am not joking. I do not joke when I say the VCR is hard to work with.

Listen. I have never used one before. Okay? It is hard. It is stupid. It is a stupid machine, no matter how useful. Please don’t ever joke about it.

But the video: this young man is veritably skating along the surface of the road, as if on ice skates or something, and, what’s more, attaching himself to the motor vehicles that pass by. I don’t believe it! If I were the driver of one of those vehicles, I would be furious! Or at least terrified. Either way, I certainly wouldn’t keep driving like this fellow:

Come to think of it, the more I watch this section of tape again, the more I realize there must be something more to it, something hidden. See how the two acknowledge each other? And the strange writing on the man’s hat, what is that?

Mountain Dew? What does that have to do with driving? Or with the power of love? I have to ask Tyrone about this…