Alone with your thoughts is never a good thing while mindgliding on poisonous Goombas. Marked fetters are left from minds that went before, lost in thought, never to return the same. Such is the nature of cosplay kicks and vision trips.
The child of Adam Strange spins vinyl UFO's for food or vegemite. Preferably vegemite. The loops attract zombie blackstars flashing grills made out of mercury in the whiteness of space, while the sound they make is like sucking of galactic spittle from astros humping wormholes.