Palliativity 112: Jump-Cut — The Lost Decade

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

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Jump Cut

2000

The Lost Decade