It doesn't know it's still hunting, or when its victim slot is filled. It just revolves under everything, insensibly lethal, the fringes of its influence felt sometimes in the stone-grey rumble of moving vans. It would be like trying to exorcise radiation. How could you ever make it stop?

I know two like that, one on this side of the Atlantic and one on the other. The only thing you can do is fuck the fucking fuck off with a fucking quickness. I mean, a film is a film, I'm just saying, there are those. I remain entirely baffled and blind astonished you managed to be within three hundred yards of one for however many years you withstood grad school.