Q.: Before going on a world tour with the hoax, you have to lie up a lucid communiqué about the fake 
       enigma of our attempted clairvoyancy. Because your subtle info-sheets elude to make it clear. I get very 
       confused when somebody poses me a question. Just stutter about the vision thing like a crazy psychic. 
       Can you give me a reusable answer I could learn and repeat?
A.: Tell them that it’s undefinable. Neither art, nor cult. A third way of communication. Transmission of  
       the invisible by oral magick. An allegory of the condition of the blind. Deciphering an alleged 
       hallucination. Illustrating the work of intelligence. Interdimensional intercourse by means of an 
       informative altercation. Live encounter with the unknown. Nothing is granted. You can say anything  
       and its opposite. Obscurity is our trademark. “Aleph & Ta” don’t wear no mask.
Q.: That’s not what I asked. I need catchy phrases easy to remember. You know, my dear Aleph, I don’t
      know what I’m m doing. You tell me and I obey. I’m only a tool in your hand presented as a freak 
      attraction herewith. A mindless apprentice under your scrutiny. If it is symbolical of anything, it’s our 
      unrefined relationship. I’ve never been an independent woman in this subhuman comedy. I am your 
      brain-mate. I only can do what you think I should. My freedom is to serve you. Giving you the clues like 
      a sidekick. With no appreciation in exchange. I remain the stupid maid and you my poetic master. What
      you are is a monogamous patriarch at heart. I’m not going on stage with you.
A.: Don’t take it so harsh, it’s only the precept. We’re not commissioned to change the shape of that thing. 
      Our couplehood must be conventional. Since I’ve discovered your talent, I am enticed to use it. Maybe 
       we can make money of this. And it’s a very good format to introduce my witty ideas without the pathos 
       of a speech. I found a door that lets us in. I call it performancy.
Q.: I’m sure you do. And what does it stand for?
A.: For heaven’s sake, Gina, don’t be so thick! It stands for evocation as performance art. What we are 
       executing is transcendent espionage. A step upward on my accredited ladder. We are to deliver our 
       occasional subjects a message from the other side in the form of an imaginary postcard. A stolen 
       snapshot of their uncharted soul. It is present-telling in stead of a future.  Opening a secret window 
       of the prevalent observation. Much more electrifying than scrying in the past. ‘The Atheist Divination’
       is disclosure without conclusion. An abstract portrait of one’s hidden self. Its single revelation is about 
       the overall omnipresence of Osh, the certainty of an operator. 
Q.: It’s all too academic still for a casual chat. I crave for directives from you, not thematics. I know you 
       despise method acting, but I’m not a professional. I can’t comply with orders I cannot comprehend. 
       You have to enlighten me or I turn to grey. What is the higher objective behind the ostentatious augury?
A.: I hate to disappoint you but it does not have any. This is a play for the play’s sake conceived to initiate
       in the great arcanum of the Octagram. We intrude in our voluntary victim’s dreamscape to loot an
       emblematic image of his beautiful mind. The result may be formidable but has no no healing or 
       warning effect. More of a burglary than restitution. An arbitrary and superfluous gift with no 
       commercial value. The guest will leave the séance empty-handed. Left with the vague memory of an 
       impalpable photograph. This is Nirvania, honey. Our homeward bound.


Q.: But how can I be sure that my visions are real? That not I am projecting them under the pressure...
A.: It’s no point to worry about such. The frequency can’t cheat if you’re properly tuned.  When   
      blindfolded, your ego is expelled from the circle. You’ll move in the magnetic field without prejudice.
      You’ll find what’s never meant to be seen. You act as a hacker with a consent. Your goal is to expose    
      an illegitimate reproduction. ‘The Performancy’ is an overt betrayal of the secrecy of correspondence. 
      Defamation of a holiest sacrament.
Q.: Would you at least reveal me that much if you can where is the other side you’re sending me to   
     explore at my own peril? Is it within or without? Because I get pretty lost in the dazzling darkness
      of the fidgeting void. If god is none, as you say and I believe you, who is remitting his greetings? 
      May it not be a trick of the devil?
A.: When god had gone, the devil went with it. Such dichotomies have no credential in the Atheist 
       Church. As long as your visions appear, its irrelevant where they come from. And if they cease
       to, we’ll have to drop the arcadian project. And reimburse the entry price. This is the great 
       risk we’re bravely undertaking. The impostor never knows. It’s always double dare.
Q.: That’s impossible. Could never happen to me. My astral head is teeming with reflections. It is a
      relief to channel them.
A.: We must be very careful when challenging the paranormal. A sudden faculty like this can be
      steadily revoked. We must make extreme haste to profit from it as long as it holds.
Q.: So nothing is mine in this maddened world of yours? Not even my own mirages. I’m only 
       borrowing them for your theatre of annoyance. You’d better remove me from your dubious bill
       if you don’t trust my capacities.
A.: Don’t make out of it a marital argument. The roles of the game cannot be changed. Our 
       affiliation is not a gender issue. We are controlled by a transhumanist modulation. We are 
       deemed to be the first couple of the Atheist Pantheon. ‘The Performancy’ is in fact a celebration
       of our updated genealogy according to the Author’s immaculate taste. But remember, Osh is 
       not a godhead. He’s a father that don’t care about his children. None cannot be. Our dilemma is 
       strictly grammatical.
Q.: If that is the case you should be the more precautious with your imperious publicity. Maybe 
       implicate a possible fiasco. It’d be fairer and even more mystifying. But I henceforth don’t see 
       how to convince open-minded gallerists to give us a spot. Especially without a factual résumé. It 
        is a shame that even this issue I am charged to solve. You wouldn’t deign to take the blame in person.
      To be your medium is complete degradation. I am a slave to your message.
A.: You have to make it clear that our program is a brand new form of propaganda. That it ain’t spectacular
       doesn’t make it post-avantgarde. It is an autonomous worship anticipating the unexpected. Functionalist 
       divertissement for an elitarian public. Dedicated to lost souls in crisis anytime anywhere.


Q.: How would you define our characters if happened to have to? Who are the personages of the unwritten
       script and what is their disposition?
A.: ‘The Performancy’ is a triangular setting. Aleph, Ta and a rotating subject.in the middle. We don’t
       feature a persona but act as naturally as sham theurgists can. Ours is the poorest theatre of the universe
       based on an unprovable fraudulence. We’ll carry it around as a mobile temple. We are not actors but 
       agents of veracity. You have to keep that always on your mind.
Q.: That’s okay, but how would you categorize the actual event? Happening wouldn’t fit since nothing does
       happen. It could better sell as a radio play. There we could do it on a regular basis with announced 
       guests coming on every next week. But you would prefer the traveling college as you used to. To see the
       world behind the television. 
A.: You are right but very incorrect though. The invisible can be happening and it’s fascinating to watch it
       unfold. That’s the eventual crux of the situation we’re out to manufacture. The unraveling drama of the
       retrospective disquisition will jot down a storybook before its witnesses. How the blurred vision blows up 
       into a telling replica through the systematic investigation is a syntactic thriller written in vivo. We are   
       prosecuting a subreality check by the disrobed word reduced to its logic.
Q.: You are nothing of an eloquent orator, Spiel! Your vocabulary is limited to an absolute 
       beginner’s. Your English is more broken than of a fake guru’s. It’s nothing of a privilege to be 
       your contracted scanner.
A.: Never mind the circumstances. Its flaws only make the spiel more entertaining. Our interactiois a 
      freestyle improv wide open to associative deviation from its given topic.  We can talk about
      anything on our guest’s pretext from politics to pop music. The discourse will flow like a debate 
      full of edifying miscomprehensions, allowing the select public to constructively participate. The 
      seemingly intimate psychodrama is in fact an engaging theater of reality offering its voyeurs 
      a cathartic experience if properly implemented.


Q.: I hope you see what you mean because I really don’t. Whoever should spend time and money for
      such a Narcissistic gyp? Rationally, you should be paying a public to put up with such a 
      shenanigan. Would be a nice reversal of the traditional paradigm.
A.: Let me tell you something, Ta, and don’ t take it too personal. It has to be your generic naivety 
      that should give the intervention is authentic charm. Just say what you see and I’ll make it sense.
      Isn’t it a deal?
Q.: You don’t seem knowing what an aggressive interrogator you are. Your inquiries often rank of a 
       cross-examination. You should never impose your presumptions on my portrayal. You corrupt
       my integrity and it makes me uncomfortable. Give me some space so you’ll have the time.
A.: No, no, no, no, no. I am performing a snappy detective and you a suspected swindle in the eye of
      the beholder. The palaver must be very accelerated so it can be followed. The showcase ends
      when we have developed the full picture. Normally it is one hour but can happen in a quarter.  The
       faster the greater is the discovered evidence. In that case we pre-extend the after-party. And order 
       beer and pizza to the official cheesecake.
Q.: The problem is that you are a bad manipulator with an innate penchant of washing female
      brains. You believe in the vision but are annoyed that I can’t articulately express it. I have to look 
      around there, you know. I’m not familiar with the terrain.
A.: The gist of the no-show is my struggle to decode what you’re trying to mediate. It’s much more 
       strenuous than your awakening. I exert no influence on you whatsoever. I respect your medium 
       from a subordinated locus. Together we are painting a verbal picture before the living dead.
      There is no mystery behind the play. It is a structuralist immortalization of the evanescent moment. 
Q.: The tone of your impertinent puffery makes it look like a bona fide pagan rite however. Starting 
       at the stroke of the midnight hour, for an audience of twelve, under the star of eight rays and so 
       forth. No one will apprehend it as nonpartisan psychotropic fun.
A.: The Word is the word. The Ouroboros rising. ‘The Performancy’ is the foundation stone of a new 
      cabal. Both Antichristian and Antiwiccan. Never mind the formula, there is only one style. After
       all, the entire humdrum is just another attempt of recruitment. Not a side-project but an integral 
       part of The Party’s electoral campaign, A most economic solution as compared to the Iceland Rally.
       No equipage, no technology, no assistance. A vulgar display of DIY passion. An etherial defiance
       of the multimedia.
Q.: From sheer necessity, let’s admittedly face it. It’s exactly that much we can afford. All that and your
       looney tune don’t seem too sponsor-friendly. You’ll be taken for a euphuistic mountebank by the
       experienced intelligentsia.
A.: That the action starts at midnight is not a gothic allure, but an astronomic prerequisite. The 
       invocation can best work during the empty hour between two solar days. And twelve has always  
       been the loveliest number to do. There is nothing esoteric in the empty scene.
Q.: All you do care is about your cosmic reputation. Don’t help me to find my equivocal voice. Am I 
      expected to evaluate my mode of operation without a cent? You know what, I won’t! This show is
      cancelled sine die.
A.: There is a thing women can’t understand. You don’t have to do nothing. Just look sexy and act 
       frivolous. The picture will tell the story but the clue is you. Your innocence is worth a fortune.
       As long as you don’t know what you’re doing, the show must go on.