They could support, and even be entertained by the initial festivities that they were obligated to sift through. These preliminary fragments of the entire performance were stepping stones, an aperitif, guiding them towards a more cultivated thrill. The penetration of shrill cries, thundering booms and mews of stray cats that leapt from their paths promised them a shudder of excitement. They loved this. The build-up was expected, compulsory, and yet it was still what had them coming back for more.

Here, the absurd was embraced. They felt comfortable as they gazed upon the scenes, high above the glitter and glitz that clamored and battled for their attention. Their judgment was powerful. This they knew. They were convinced that it was what drove the antics in the spotlight to push onwards, since holding their attention— with bigger, better, faster, and more— in such excess was a challenge. And yet, the sensory overload was brilliantly numbing.