As I wander around a sun drenched Spanish city I come across a square of modern architecture. Here two mechanised statues lead me into doorways to the tourist attractions. They are supposed to be fun but are a bit irritating. I enter one building and find a huge photograph of a wall of ancient rocks with a hole in the centre. The image suggests something pagan and mysterious.
Four men held together by one nightshirt have swum a vast distance without food. Close to death, their faces skeletal, they arrive at a busy port in India. Local people lean over to drag them from the water. It looks like they are going to pull through. Now the sea morphs into a bustling road in the same city. The men are too slow, too exhausted to get up in time and a bus drives over the top of them, crushing them, ripping their bodies to shreds. Life is cheap here.
Nervous but excited, I have come to see a performance artist who is known to effect profound changes in mens' lives. He picks me out from the audience and takes me inside a black gypsy cabin. "You will be electrocuted here like the man in this video," he says. I begin to feel uneasy. Who is this guy? Will I be ok? I am always so careful in life. His face becomes demonic and he laughs, "How sweet! Too late to go back now. I will parade you naked through the streets of Carrick - everyone will know who you really are." I am terrified and yet I still trust this man.
