Here begins the motley dance of bells and ribbons. The Zany role: pretending to be less, more, other than ourselves. Because of our imperfection doubt becomes daring. Inference and invention coalesce to act out some blithe celebration of the prodigal improbable. We beget the anti-hero of the anti-myth; art and self subsumed within an absurdly perfect imperfectability; the serpent's tail of being, knowing, meaning.