A "parasitic collective" gets to work: it crawls into costumes, nibbles on arias, and burrows its way through the canon of Western opera. It takes what it likes. The rest is discarded. Together with the queer snake-boys, the audience becomes a swarm: made up, costumed, loud, uninvited. A cell is formed—the party begins! "Dido doesn't die. Papageno catches nothing. Carmen doesn't come. Elisabeth doesn't wait."

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