There's a William Blake/Edward Lear death match going on in my head with the relative positions of the ludic and visionary imaginations in the great chain of being hanging in the balance, Lewis Carroll and Antonin Artaud in the wings, ready to tag in.

Reading that over seems it's ludic by a hair in a technical decision, not very satisfying for the fans.

Artaud did do some pretty exciting trash talk before the bout, don't have a copy handy, you'll have to look it up yourself.