"Look, if some part of the body we all call "mine" gets some zany ideas and wants to get a lil jazzy with it, and the rest of my organs can't cope, well, that just means "I" have a bad consensus process, okay??"

"Cancer is right-adventurism, comrade; I'm begging you to study dialects"

A slime girl staring wistfully out the window: "gosh, if only someone had some kind of vision for a full reworking of the basis of all biologic manifestation that could entirely integrate these concerns…"