We went and saw Mission Impossible: Fallout and laughed for 2½ hours at the brilliant kinetic absurdity: Tom Cruise, part of the Jackie Chan and Buster Keaton lineage of getting audiences to pay stacks to watch them do mad stunts. We ate chocolate and ice cream and nachos – cinema nachos! – and drunk Sekt. In the Kino. This is Germany and everywhere is drinking erlaubt. Ten years today, ago Dasniya and I met in her Fabrik studio in Uferstraße.
I found this snuck into my suitcase. Stone Tape Theory Altar of Lemmy.
The day after. Removing darkness. De-mummification.
Watching Virginia transcribe one of the many cassette tapes of Stone Tape Theory and I see the name of the street I live in.
Melanie Lane messages with an offer of cassette players. From Germany. Big ’70s portable boxes. Yesterday, our brilliant tech crew sort getting the output to input into the desk and I rack them up. Our tech booth looks dead serious now.
12 in widdershins.
Lemmy watches over us in the biobox, offerings of cigarettes and whiskey.
Blair set up an IR Camera in the Stone Tape Theory blackness. Once a minute a strobe fires. IR camera flickers and pulses half a second later, frothing light burning the screen.