With the jawbone of your skeleton hinted at in your newly strange mouth and with your bugged out eyes revealing the sockets in your skull, the normally expressive human face stops expressing humanity. You now look to yourself like a meat android on a robot skeleton; the tenderness of the mouth is gone, replaced by a grimace more reflective of the cyborg endoskeletons of the Terminator movie franchise. The face and eyes no longer convey a soul endowed with free will. If you do it right, the eyes will have no more hint of a soul in them than does—to borrow from Burroughs—a crab’s eye on the end of its stalk.