I traveled to the far flung edges of NYC's west side, traversing avenue blocks in the cold only to have my very existence questioned at The Kitchen. "World of Wires" created a multi-media, "big brother is watching"-ish theater experience that confronted me with questions like: Am I truly human? Or am I a mere test subject in a scientific computer simulation of earth-scale proportions? Is my life simply an experiment conducted by some post-human civilization studying our less evolved human behavior and emotion? And can I blame a computer glitch for this insane compulsion of mine to divulge my life experiences and dirty little secrets on the worldwide web in the form of a diary; thereby relieving savvy post-human scientists the arduous task of recording their findings about flawed behavioral patterns and their consequences?