Watching a bobblehead CGI Prodigy get braided in "Pangea" with Noam Chomsky talking about national ID cards is similar to the experience of falling down and cutting your arm up and then staring at it like it isn't really your arm. It's a kind of disembodied wonder for a couple of seconds, like "Hey weird, this doesn't hurt" and then the endorphins wear off and you cry.
