Walking through the night. I’m not even supposed to be here today, and so is Silent Bob.

New news of dying migrants. No attention for the paperless, what can the sailors do when the captain feels mean? Meanwhile Guy Maddin tells us his tales of amnesia, incest, death, and transfiguration decked out in low-rent expressionism and dime-store surrealism. Such a joy, joy, joy to meet somebody new. The insonnia of the homeless in the Termini train station addressing Heinrich Heine, trying to convince us to smile in spite of the faded flowers. And you, dear Betty?

It’s 5 am. Internally displaced people in Colombia and protesters in Rome buy Berlin on a website, and sing along with old street musicians at their long gone open air coffee shop. Gentrification, cheerfully whistling through swinging doors of court halls after real estate auctions. Field recordings or fake nostalgia?

Unununium’s colour is unknown, but probably metallic and silvery white or grey in appearance. Uses: no uses known.

We play Nachtlieder, and Theodor Kramer wishes a good night to….well, he has the better words.