Musashi Mix Inq

Palliativity 112: Jump-Cut — The Lost Decade

Posted on December 31, 2010

Jump Cut

We are Generation Jump-cut the abrupt change of tempo; the endless burst of disruption.

We are captivated by the fast flicker in the mirror.

Without lift, we ride onward on pure momentum. The promises of endless possibility in the shadow of the past millenium.

We are the sophmore slump.

Where did the good go?

Embrace the Collosus in the corner: Welcome to the End of the Oughts.

Jump-cut: Continuity is not the goal. Rhythm: communication lost in the fall.

We are Atlas's cigarette-break, the bang-brushing unreadable shrug.

Like the single-geared track-bike, we un-invent the wheel.

We are the Roadwarriors of Goodwill; Vintage without the Vantage.

Y2K+X=Then. Analog turns to Digital.

Our war is syndicated before the bodies go cold. Terror is knowing what only could have been...

We have outgrown the old gods and harvest the blood of titans; a greasy fingerprint on the face of a world dug hollow.

This is my 1080HD Resolution.

Jump-cut— don't think too long. We are the break-beat, one-two punch to the soul.

We are malapropism misfits flash-mobbing at the end of the rainbow. Though distant, we are in constant contact.

Through viral memes we see the face of god.

Don't blink. It's already over.


Here's to tropes and new beginning. Here's to toasts and winter nights.
All I ask is that we keep spinning, and give us each our chance to-

Fight the Future, Save the Past





Jump Cut


The Lost Decade

Origins: Seven Breaths…

Posted on December 20, 2010

Fight the Future, Save the Past

4:28 PM; 5.28.05, ©MMV

Imperial Palace Hotel, Kyoto - 5.28.05 - age 21

5 years ago on a jetlag bender, I sat in the night-glow of my macbook screen. I was haunted by a captured image, a visage of a world in flux. The moment that my eye, camera lens and subject aligned in a perfect ray »CLICK« — I knew that a door inside of me had opened. Insomniac and meditative, I contemplated the threshold. 7 breaths—

"One should make decisions within the space of seven breaths— It is a matter of being determined and having the spirit to break right through to the other side." - The Hagakure

I uploaded and pondered the photograph with twitching palms and tinfoil in my teeth. I brought up my tool palette and began to work. Layer upon layer brought me closer to a feeling I'd been incubating for years and yet had never been able to express so completely.

When finished, I smiled knowing that there was no going back. To pierce through the veil of the floating world felt mischievous and exhilarating. This is where I belong. I aim to misbehave.

Kyoto Underground, ©MMV


Benshi (The Narrator)

Posted on November 29, 2010

Benshi (The Narrator), ©MMX

As Tokyo burns, we turn to the Benshi ; the box-seat view of Ragnarök—

The silent film era of Japan existed as an extension of the classic theater structure borrowed from Noh and Kabuki drama. The lack of dialogue was filled by live instrumentals and the voice of the Benshi 弁士 (narrator). In many ways, the Benshi was more than what his title first suggests. His job was not only to convey plot and dialogue, but to play as the interpreter of cutting edge technology to the masses. In a culture where photographs steal pieces of your soul, the introduction of film seemed malevolently occult.

The original film projectors required 5 engineers to run. The behemoth machines were loud, unreliable and could produce enough heat to set the film-reel aflame, "It's all part of the show, folks!" — Despite the technical wizardry required to screen a film, it was up to the Benshi to project the illusion that formed the raw images and orchestration into a narrative.

In Japan's silent film era, movie houses were not famous for what films they were showing. The selection was limited and yet the demand was high. This was the era of the Benshi. All films became scratch material for talented performance artists (much like the recent "Downfall" meme). Although the images remained the same, you could never see the same film twice.

True storytellers are not subject to content.


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The Fashion Monster

Posted on November 22, 2010

The Fashion Monster, ©MMX

Speculative fiction is the mythology of tomorrow. What parts of us will survive the next onslaught of technology?

The question is not, "do androids dream?", but rather, "will we?"


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Fudō Myōō

Blade Runner


Posted on November 15, 2010

Dignity, ©MMX

Hand-me-down democracy,
I think I found the prophecy,
A destiny lying dormant in my skin.

My eyes belie the broken trust,
For flags and ships and choking dust.
I seek to find the one who will be king.


I fly above and then within,
This frozen plain of time.
Thru kith and kin the arrows sing,
This shattered song of mine.

This desert is my homeland,
For forty years we walked.
Only to find another war,
Barbed-Wire in the Blood.


Gion Ghosts

Posted on November 8, 2010

Gion Ghosts, ©MMX


The alchemy of silk-lined

Alleys in Gion.


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