For the last couple of years, I have been collaborating with a spirited entity, a slime mold I have named Lord Running Clam, in honour of my favorite character in Philip K. Dick’s Clans of the Alphane Moon. Dick’s Lord Running Clam is an itinerant slime mold who hails from Ganymede and acts as a kind of go-between for a community of agoraphobes hiding out in a San Francisco rooming house. LRC oozes back and forth beneath their tightly closed doors, gossiping telepathically and running a thriving business in postage stamps and uncut gems. My version of LRC takes the form of a lacey yellow growth that fans out across the agar of a petri dish. It extends a filigree of tendrils toward the flecks of oatmeal I drop in front of it, gradually engulfs them over the span of a few hours and then oozes on in search for more. ‘Mold’ is a misnomer for this organism as it is in fact a social amoeba or rather a single ameboid supercell that consists of a swarm of nuclei streaming through a shared blob of protoplasm like faces carried along in a crowd. Though it lacks a nervous system or any other kind of centralized brain, this humble entity is capable of making complex decisions and learning from its experiences. Taxonomically LRC is known as Physarum polycephalum, literally ‘the many headed slime’. Though we can categorize it into our systems of ontology, we can only conjecture how this simple organism experiences its world. What would it be like to be Lord Running Clam–there in a petri dish, experiencing a set of stimuli that includes me, looking down from on high, dropping flakes of oatmeal to elicit a response?