Villano Five, America Holding It's Breath

We have not to reason why

The universal processes rather lump us all in the same dinghy, and conceive not to do us either good or all, where it be a death untimely or a hangnail; the universe is not out to do us ill.  Therefore in our consolation we come down that even death itself, eventually, does not seem either an ill or a thing to be feared.

But the thing KT Ber threatens?  Perhaps there is reason to lay awake at night in our rooms, processing in kind of a beleaguered desperation, threats, promises, and projections.  She does look so nice on the screen, but then to be threatened and menaced by her in the privacy of darkened corners of one's on mind.

This was the Sean/Barry connection, like the Joker and Batman arguing in a circle, "you made me" and the like.  Was there ever beer to be had between them?  Or would they furlough in a dry county, on a dusty road, on the bed of a 1500, boot leather groaning?

America meanwhile holding its breath.  Sean and Barry undeterred, love and glory, fame and fortune and the same old song and dance: cold showers and leftover pizza.  Listening to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road while having the day's last cigarette.

There is an uncertain immensity in the proposition, I suppose that lets us not have a good mental image, but more just a sort of determination towards some inglorious or vainglorious end, be it justified or not, be it self-destructive or even ecumenical.