Once upon a time, in the “tavern,” there was singing and dancing, and a sense of real lifestyle choice and achievement of political goals (“we’d fight and never lose”). Politics doubly determined by visions of youth and of the past, cast in amber. Singer proud that her generation, now older, is “no wiser” in this regard. But thought this way, the future is already determined, and it can be nothing more than a reiteration of the past--another version of “the same.”

Body-politic: from “cities” and “legs,” from legs to cities, along a reversible continuum of analogies, all that is closed should be left “open.” This must not be a clearing of the throat box for additional clarity, but rather a gargling and expectorating--a sonic extrusion. Bataillean erotic vomit.