Ethereal, tiny, quixotic, Icelandic Björk.
At some point in the past, someone stuck a camera in front of her face and told her to explain television. She does, sort of, referring to the circuit board as a kind of city, describing the almost-reasonable theory of an Icelandic poet, and concluding that a “Danish book” contained the scientifical truth that let her enjoy TV again.
Look, you just have to watch it. It’s transcendent.