It was the biggest thing since building critters out of meat. Electronic motion: electrifying the meat so that the critters would not just move, but feel. This existential electricity flowed down a spine, through a head, into and out of fingertips. A critter twitched. A critter writhed. A critter wrote hexameter. The Designer liked it all until one critter’s electronic motion caused it to question whether it had a Designer, or whether that Designer was particularly intelligent. That’s about when the Designer stopped talking to them and spent all the time electrocuting them. It was sort of vengeance, and a sort of function. Electric excitement. Electric enticement. Electric despair. He did it so much that electronic motions required short hand. He shortened it to “e-motions.” Eventually he dropped the hyphen.