They walk more slowly, seeing each other in their wounds, not wanting to heal them. A kind of precocity, except that they're too old and its been done before. Suffering has gotten a bit too cute for the leisured elite. And what about the others?

"Dogs with broken legs are shot; men with broken souls write through the night."

Nodding yes, expounding ecstatically, she joins Moonlight's marathon. But the soul needs so much pruning and the next-door neighbor is always backing up over it. Her guilt is impotent. But the cake tastes good, and bread is tiresome.

"You were afraid to possess your soul, so you went by the wayside and acquired property."

Moonlight is a realist. Moonlight hates capitalism and its politicians and its extensions into facism and its wars. "But I have already told you that property is murder." Moonlight does not like communism either. But Moonlight isn't even a humane anarchist. Benevolence is inhuman, like Whitman "wanting to paw over everybody." Moonlight directs his sexuality and his hate. Moonlight is an activist.

"Until all men unite in hating the poor, there can be no new society. The revolutions of the future must be directed not against the rich but against the poor....How the Church and the false revolutionaries draw together: love the poor--for they are humble. I say hate the poor for the humility which keeps their faces pressed into the mud...tell them to walk proudly on this earth."

Moonlight is a lover. Cracking open your skull and pulling it inside out. Wanting.

"I smoke too much. I light a cigarette every time I want to touch someone. People do not want hands on them."

Did you help to murder Chrystle, the girl Christ, born of many men? Will you do it again?

"I AM ANXIOUS TO WITNESS A CONVERSATION BETWEEN CHRIST AND ADOLF HITLER, BUT AS YET THEY APPEAR EQUALLY ANXIOUS TO HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH EACH OTHER."

Moonlight is a Jungian, asking how "to the strange, unborn thing which is in all men."

Preaching love and life as a habit, grooving on martyrdom, intensity without discretion, without propriety...telling her to believe everything, telling her it is all a lie.

"I love you. How can you forgive that?"

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE A HORSE AT A TIME LIKE THAT."

The girl began to take in Moonlight's paranoia, but like him, never defended herself. She asked the others to offer their defense. He grew proud and weak, neither being given to man in the first place. Moonlight as an unbalanced Johnsonian.