The brain is a beautiful country. It self-propagates, blooming iterations like lichen which, in time, shift and harden. In yours, Madagascar floats large and far away, amphibian, its tank full of super-fuel. In the brains of the lemurs at the sanctuary, Madagascar abuts a major highway near the Sunrise Biscuit Kitchen, and a tambourine announces innertime. So much of our knowledge is built on our knowledge. What a silly, strange, and mighty island.