“On his own again, M. del Rio has no choice but to retreat further up his own ass.”

So what is a Cleft Skull? Another tough sounding title? Surely, but it’s not intended to be merely brushed off as a morbid cliche. This isn’t a another tale of empty violence but something that we can all relate to while we lay unconscious and have all variety of strange images dredged up from our subconscious.

Cleft as in open, like how some semi-mystics have attempted to reopen their skulls via trepanation -- or ‘attain enlightenment’ as the mind is freed from its encasing. But let’s assume in this instance that we all are a race of beings whose heads are left slightly open once fully formed allowing all manner of strange vibrations and signals to interact with our own brain waves. By allowing this unobstructed dialogue to happen between the inside and the out, all of the starlight is free to stir into your dreams with unprecedented velocity. Every night we are confronted by our own constituent memories as well as some kind of external signal melded into one personal narrative. We digest an array of symbols without much say in the matter, force fed (and observe these things on what screen exactly?). It all seems like science fiction to me, so let’s view this ordinary process in a fittingly fantastic way.