SEARCHING FOR NOURISHMENT IN THE LAND OF CYBER-TOAST
by
Sasha Wentges
"You know what I really like about cyberspace? The rumours.
Such as the recent so-called fact that the Vatican had been bought out
by Microsoft...One world, one operating system!"
-Laurie Anderson, The Nerve Bible performance, 1996
In only two years, the Media Lounge has become one of the festival's
(Festival International Nouveau Cinema, Nouveaux Medias) most awaited
events. Walking into the Just for Laughs Museum for the Media Lounge's
third installment, I prepare myself for an Intense Modulation of the
Senses.In only two years, the Media Lounge has become one of the festival's
(Festival International Nouveau Cinema, Nouveaux Medias) most awaited
events. Walking into the Just for Laughs Museum for the Media Lounge's
third installment, I prepare myself for an Intense Modulation of the
Senses.">
The maniacal pulse/pulse/pulsing lights in the elevator, enough to set-off
an epileptic seizure, were promptly disconnected after the first few
days. Step off the elevator, you voyage into the media zone/shape shift
by making a right into a cyber-cinematico, experimental, immersive,
and (gulp!) apocalyptic vision of the future: Little pods to sit on;
shadowy figures peering out of a scanner darkly; light radiating from
a circle of computer screens hosting interactive CD-ROMS; a row of Internet
accessible computers against a metallic fish-netted wall; and a bar
equipped with either smart drinks (Guru) or dumb drinks (insert Beer
joke here).
Walking
slowly, as to avoid stepping on any humans in this barren landscape, I head
towards the light. The CD-ROMS are all in use. In this convivial environment,
people stare into screens, head-phones on, firmly clasp their mice (eek)...I
scan the room and spot a free computer. I'll check my e-mail. No messages
): I proceed to send greetings out to the global village, and co-ordinates
as to my whereabouts, (in case I accidentally interface with a hard-driving,
floppy homo-sapien type and lose my memory whilst ramming through the G-Force,
already easy enough being an anglo in this cosmopolitan city). I wonder if
anyone other than the techno-savvy know what is happening here, in this particular
corner of the city. It appears so, as people pile in to see the shows. At
a hefty price, you too can watch the latest DJ/VJ's hard at work, scratching
away, repetitively, uncovering nothingness in endless cycles of ...repeating
endless cycles of...repeating endless cycles of ...
Keeping an open mind, I try not to succumb to droneville and prepare for a
calisthenics workout of the beat/beat/beat. Mythic modulations. I check the
crowd: slacked-jaws, phat pants, and bleary vision, gathered in awe and reverence
of the new 'techno' gods. I attempt to mix. " Hey! You're just a D.J.!", I
shout, but am over-powered by the ballistic bass. We engage in the ritual.
Blam. Inundated with images I blink/blink/blink and cannot process fast enough...
The Birds are Coming! http://cri.histart.umontreal.ca/phonotheque,
Electonicat+Babiole; www.tutti-image.com/babiole;
Soundpicture lll www.rsrecords.com
and Sample Madness www.eboman.com ...I'll
sift through it later in my dreams. Diving into the comfy couches, the monotonous
sounds and images swirl all around me. Dizzy, I get up and stumble through
the throng. Maybe if I had ingested the right drugs, I might groove more to
this scene. Or perhaps I just donšt get it, sort of like my reaction to em,
Abstract Art.
CONTINUED