I only have two things to say about this one. Firstly, what a cruelty for an animal without eyelids to be subjected to such indifference. I can't imagine the glare inside that tank. Secondly, I have trouble wrapping my brain around the odd syntax in Ziggy's speech ("There's no way I'm able. . .") .
This old sage's character is as inconsistent as my tapioca cooking. Today he's opted for a sort of wishy-washy Socratic existentialism. Truth be told, it all confuses the dickens out of me. Nice coloring, though.
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