Insulindian Phasmid: “The arthropods are in silent and meaningless awe of you. Know that we are watching — when you're tired, when the visions spin out of control. The insects will be looking on. Rooting for you. And when you fall we will come to raise you up, bud from you, banner-like, blossom from you and carry you apart in a sky funeral. In honour of your passing.”