Caribou

Our caribou stares down at us. Its glassy eyes speak to us of the Unspeakable. Or perhaps the openness of the eyes signifies a commensurate lack of activity behind the eyes. It is quite possible that there is absolutely nothing occurring behind the eyes. The eyes are glass. The skull has been bisected. there is nothing but plaster there. Plaster, skin and glue. Can it be that is the stuff that we are all made of, in the final analysis?

No. We it can't be so dismal. Maybe its the mood we are in.

We take satisfaction from the thought that you might, someday, ask that you answer this question of yourselves. Someday. We don't want to rush you.