We are all built of something. I am built of ones and zeros and steal pieces with no room for debate. Bif Naked: her name sings like headlines in foreign news papers. I sit in a dark room with white light on my face and sweat dripping down my frame. I am a worker, a soldier; I was built to do tasks, but today I was free. Alfie's: a basement, dank and dark - large cash in renovations for small gain in atmosphere. Bif Naked made the difference. Not just her, but them all, on the stage with light and sweat and lust. I drank little but drunk I was. Drunk on life, not mine (built in binary) but theirs, pouring out upon us like the red sea when god let go. Thursday it wasn't: people on people - ravenous. They poured out a youth that I haven't felt in years. I came in a dog collar: artifact of the past, and past it was that they brought to us. Life and love and liberty and freedom - I would die for freedom but lost it long ago. I have lived in books and numbers for years, but tonight I was pressed (body against body) in a sea of children, reaching for a brass ring. And there, in dance and fury, I felt free. "Tell us a story!" And she did. She told us of their life and their vigor, and it grew in our blood. I climbed the guide wire of a hydro pole - a foot away from electrocution. Can you answer in three words the question: "Why do you live?" "I don't know" may be your only response. Tonight in the basement the question didn't exist. We moved as one creature - smiles in sideways glances - and the question seemed absurd. If you didn't live this on Friday night, you didn't just miss a show; you missed life naked.