Heart hiccups and shudders, and we snap our metal fingers down the street like — hiccup and shudder — we’re in Grease oh god. But we’re hot to trot, we’re slicker, we’re light rails through subway tunnels and the city surrounds, pulse beating in the dark like a living EKG machine. We intelligent toys are electrified in motion, pumped with neon ice and stuttering toward incarnate outposts. Heart pistons hiccup and bearings shudder, we shake it off and zero in on our component parts, marveling at their form and function. Advanced.
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