This semester has been a shitshow. I have no time for anything, especially the seventh art. This morning on my way to campus, while I was scanning terrestrial radio (perhaps the last human to do so), Three Degrees suddenly struggled to the surface, battling for frequency dominance with a Spanish talk station and some generic posturing hip-hop.
It reminded the cinetrix of the summer, and of Hito Steyerl's amazing work, and of the post-Flaherty Seminar buzz of feeling smart and engaged and part of a community of likeminded souls.
I miss that feeling, and all of you, out there in the dark.