You may already own a Boby.

Ladies & Gentleman! You Blessed Denizens of the Wild Untamed Electric Wilderness!

You may already own a Boby Tarlow & think you understand it. You may caress its fur, stroke its assorted collage of clockwork components & plan your romantic afternoon countryside getaways in a boozy bucolic haze, just you & your sweetly cooing Boby. I assure you, kind, gentle lovers, you have it all wrong. The closer you get to your Boby, the further it gets away. Your Boby is but an astral snowflake on your astral palm.

Please, allow me to illustrate.

Take, for instance, the tense push & pull & wildly gesticulating ambulations of the Computer Perfection/Dan Demaggio exploration, "Boby Tarlow". Surreally unhinged, danceably inviting, affirmative of both life & love, Demaggio's short film set to Computer Perfection's synth-ful song meanders through a technicolor autopsy of the dismantled psychic interiors of a wild Boby Tarlow found hiding in the garage one morning. "Hey Boby," the collaboration muses, "what's up?" Perhaps Boby answers then or perhaps its answers are divined by the wild angles & chromatic roller coaster Demaggio has pasted together. Is the technicolor origami a representation of Boby's inner unanswerable yearning or have the fleas just gotten too close to its brain? Will Boby's true heart of holy flame awaken finally as a result of this offering or was it ever even really there?

Finally, you see: there is Boby but there is no Boby.