God Don Hertzfeldt is awesome. It's hard to give this a proper review, since there's so much to unpack, but it fits the ideas and theme Hertzfeldt has been working out in his work for some time now. It has concepts of identity, about what a human being is apart from their flesh and blood, about a sense of being unstuck in time and events feeling random, about what gives us comfort and what we try to hold onto in the unavoidable transience of our lives here. And of course, it's full of things like the letter from Emily's grandfather that are simultaneously hilarious and sad. How Hertzfeldt is able to make these crude-yet-complex drawings into something that feels so profound and so touching is still such a mystery, but I bow down to the alchemy he uses to make a story about time travel and transferred consciousness feel like the most earnest, human thing in the world.