On James Street in Hamilton, there is a little bar where the thinkers go, where steelworkers put up their boots and poets slosh around pomegranate verses on the walls. This is The Brain.
Transcription:
What Is The Brain's…
PURPLE DRINK?
▲ Why is it so yummy? Why do you taste it in your dreams? After one glass you want another. And another. And another. Be careful what you ask. You may find out.
In Hamilton Harbour there lives a pod of MERMAIDS. They've swam in here since the ice walked away.
▽ We have a deal with them.
They give us the Purple Drink — we leave them alone.
Or else —
We'll eat them.
🩸 It's not an ideal situation for them. But they know that one day we will not be dangerous. One day we won't eat them because we won't be hungry for death. We'll be hungry for wonder, magic, and mystery — one day.
🥃 Meanwhile, the MERMAIDS with their witchery brew the Purple Drink from their MERMAID skin and their MERMAID tears, and sing a spell over it that the next drink you take will wake you up to the Dream. Will it make you build a city where no one fears, or hungers, or exists in tents. The impulse of love, the sigh of hope. So they Dream.